The Elixir of Taliesin
by OlorinTheMaiar
Summary: Harry obtains ancient knowledge from some of the greatest witches and wizards that have ever lived so that he may save the magic from becoming extinct... that is if the people inside his head would stop bickering long enough to let him think!
1. Letters and Questions

**The Elixir of Taliesin**

**Summary: Harry receives a letter from Gringotts revealing that he inherited a lot more than gold from his parents. He finds that he is the culmination of a plan that spans thousands of years to save the wizarding world. Harry obtains ancient knowledge from some of the greatest witches and wizards that have ever lived so that he may save the magic from becoming extinct… that is if the people inside his head would stop bickering long enough to let him think!**

**Disclaimer: Roses are red, violets are blue, I don't own Harry Potter, so please don't sue!**

**Many thanks to Teufel1987 for his awesome Beta reader skills!**

**Note to readers: As of 7/4/2011 this chapter has been updated. Thanks to Teufel1987, I have been revised the chapter and added some minor changes. **

**Thank you for your time. I hope you enjoy!**

**Chapter 1: Letters and Questions**

_Tap tap tap. _

Harry Potter groaned softly. He didn't want to wake up. He wanted to slip quietly back into his dreams. For the first time in the week he had been back at Number 4, Privet Drive he had not been tormented by the events of last year: be it attempting to evade a dragon brood-mother, trying to free unconscious innocents while alone at the bottom of the lake, defending himself against magical beasts while trapped in an enchanted labyrinth, or the events that surrounded Voldemort's resurrection.

No, Harry had dreamed of something he always had wanted. He had dreamed of a loving home. He had dreamed that his godfather (or his dogfather as Harry affectionately referred to him in his thoughts) had taken him away from Number 4, giving him a home and life away from Hogwarts. Yes, he loved the old School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, but it was just that. It was his school. It was not a place where he could relax and be loved. It was only an institution of learning. That is, if he had any other place to be happy. The past four years, he had clung to the school and the headmaster because the only true happiness he had ever had in his life had been under their guidance.

Harry had always referred to the school itself as a person, a woman in fact. The moment he had stepped foot inside the castle, he had felt her consciousness, her emotions. Sometimes he could feel her speaking to him, her actual words just beyond his comprehension, but her meaning usually came through. Although the headmaster had taken credit for much of what she did, she didn't mind. She just cared for her children, and she knew if her true presence was ever made public, many parents would have been outraged if they had know that an entity that was not even human had control over the school. Harry knew she seldom made her presence known since none of the other inhabitants had ever heard her, and he respected her wish to remain in the background.

_Tap tap tap._

Harry grumbled again and slowly rolled out of bed, one hand rummaging around on his bedside table for his glasses. He found them and put them on, sleepily trying to make his eyes focus. He hated his glasses. How could magic, in all its forms, fail to fix something as simple as a fourteen-year-old's eyesight? He had been told that it had something to do with his scar and his survival of Voldemort's Avada Kedavra, but really! He would rather have had two magical eyes, like the one that Moody had last year, or rather, like the one that the Death Eater who was impersonating old Mad-Eye had.

Finally succeeding in focusing his sight, he looked around for the disturbance. When he glanced at the window, he noticed two things. First, he noticed that it was well past sunrise, and looked to be around nine in the morning (a quick glance at the clock on his bedside table stated that it was in fact 9:13 AM). Secondly, he saw a minute brown and white owl that he had never seen before perched upon his windowsill, awaiting entry to his room to deliver the letter that was tied to his leg.

Harry walked over to the window still grumbling (he was never a morning person). He opened the window and the bird promptly hopped in and stuck out its leg. Harry numbly untied the letter. As soon as the letter was untied, the bird hopped back outside and took off. He glanced down at the letter. On the envelope were four words:

_To,_

_Harrison, Duke of Tintagel, Baron Potter, Heir of the Ancien and Most Noble House of Emerys, and Sovereign of the magical Realm of Avalon,_

Harry starred at it, confused. That was his name, but... since when was he a Duke? What or where was Tintagel? Who were the Emrys (or is it Emryses)? How the hell could he be the Sovereign of Avalon? It was just a myth... wasn't it? Harry opened the envelope and pulled out a thick piece of parchment in the hope that it contained the answers to these questions. The parchment, however, seemed to leave Harry with even more questions. In an official looking script, it read:

_To one Harrison , Duke of Tintagel, Baron Potter, Heir of the Ancient and Most Noble House of Emrys, Sovereign of the magical Realm of Avalon;_

_This is a confidential missive from the Goblin Bank of Gringotts. In order to view this missive, confirm your identity by placing the tip of your wand upon this parchment and swearing, "I do swear upon my magic that I am one Harrison James Potter, son of James Virgilius Potter and Lily Rose Potter neè Evans." If anyone attempts this oath other than the intended recipient of this letter, their magic will be stripped from them and they will be subjected to the Goblin Nation for incarceration under the Treaty of Avalonne of 582. _

_Thank you and have a pleasant morning,_

_Griphook_

_Department of Trust Vaults_

Harry could feel a headache coming on. Yes, it was obviously addressed to him, who are the Emrys (or is it Emryses)? Well, Harry was Harrison James Potter and his parents were James and Lily Potter, so he decided he had nothing to lose to make the oath.

Harry turned and picked up his wand off of the small desk in the corner of his room. He sighed, looking down at the parchment in his hand. 'Well,' he thought, 'Here goes nothing.' He placed his wand's tip on the letter.

"I do swear upon my magic that I am one Harrison James Potter, son of James Virgilius Potter and Lilly Rose Potter neè Evans"

The first letter faded completely, only to be replaced by a longer one:

_Your Grace;_

_It has come to my attention that the funds in your Trust Vault have dipped below twenty five percent of its original amount of 200,000 galleons. After your last transaction, your current balance is 49,473 galleons. Normally, when Trust Vaults are arranged, the familial Head of House decides if and how to replenish a Trust Vault. Since the untimely death of your parents, you have inherited the status of Head of House of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Potter from your father and Emrys from your mother. I would like to meet with you at your convenience to discuss how to remedy this situation._

_In the investigation of the possible options in replenishing your vault, I have found that you have yet to legally claimed your titles. At this time, your Magical Guardian, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, is holding these titles in absentia. Although he has the ability to access and manage your Trust Vault, only you can unseal your familial vaults, being as the magic entailed in protecting those vaults are keyed to blood relation and magical inheritance._

_If you are willing to claim your titles, please contact me to make an appointment to bind you in your capacity as Head of the Most Noble and Ancient Houses of Potter, Maro, and Emrys. In addition to these titles, you would also take control of the 11 seats on the Wizengamot (1 seat from the House of Potter and 10 seats from the House of Emrys; the seat belonging to the House of Maro was forfeited when said House was banished from Britain in 842) and one vote on the Hogwarts Board of Governors, all of which are currently controlled by your Magical Guardian. _

_To contact me to schedule an appointment, add a drop of your blood to an inkwell, say "Scrivere Cum Sangue Mihi", then use that ink to write your reply in the blank area at the bottom of this parchment. After you have finished writing, say "Finite" and the ink will revert to its original, non-magical state._

_Thank you for your time,_

_Griphook_

_Department of Trust Vaults_

_Post Scriptum: Your Grace, I do not know if you remember me, but I was the Goblin who took you to your Trust Vault shortly after your eleventh birthday. I wanted to thank you. You are the only wizard who has ever shown me courtesy. Most wizards view Goblins as underlings, you, however treated me with the dignity and respect due any sentient creature. At the time, I was surprised at the time, but once I discovered your heritage, Duke Emrys, that surprise vanished, only to be replaced by pride. Again, I thank you for your courtesy. I look forward to meeting you again._

Harry did not know where to begin. He remembered Griphook. While all the Goblins he had ever met had been brisk, he had been the only Goblin to actually be polite. Apparently his interaction had made an impression on Griphook. This fact, however, was the only thing he was sure of after reading the letter. Harry really did not know where to start, so he turned to his tried and true list method that he used when he didn't understand something when he was studying. He got out a notebook and a pen.

After rereading the letter over and over, he came up with a list of questions.

_Things I don't understand:_

_How am I a Duke?_

_What and where is Tintagel?_

_Who or what is the House of Emrys?_

_How am I the Sovereign of Avalon?_

_If Avalon truly does exist, where is it?_

_Why wasn't I told that my Gringotts vault a Trust Vault, and not the Potter family vault as I was lead to believe?_

_I only withdrew money four times from my Gringotts Trust Vault. How is over 150,000 galleons missing?_

_How is my mother the Heir of a magical House, the House of Emrys, if she was muggle-born?_

_Why wasn't I told that my family was nobility?_

_Why wasn't I told that Professor Dumbledore was my guardian?_

_If Dumbledore was my guardian, why was I raised with the Dursleys? _

_If Dumbledore was my guardian, why did he not check in on me if he was responsible for my welfare?_

_Why does Dumbledore have access to my Trust Vault?_

_Why wasn't I told that I have seats in the Wizengamot and a the Hogwarts Board of Governors?_

_It says that my seats in the Wizengamot and the Hogwarts Board of Governors are currently controlled by Dumbledore, what has he been doing with those seats, or have they been vacant?_

_Who or what is the House of Maro?_

_Why was the House of Maro banished from Britain in 842?_

_Why is does my heritage explain my respect towards a Goblin?_

_Why is Griphook now proud to have been treated with respect by me?_

_Who am I?_

This last question bothered Harry the most. He had lived his life knowing that his parents were great people: that his father was an Auror and his mother had researched and created protective charms. But he had never known anything about his lineage. He didn't even know what his paternal grandparents names were. In fact, the only thing that he knew about them was that they had taken Sirius in as a second son after the Blacks had disowned him.

Harry decided that the only way that he was going to get unbiased answers was to go to ask Griphook himself. He couldn't write a letter, he did not want to risk the chance that anyone other than the Goblin reading it, especially Professor Dumbledore.

Harry had been done a lot of reflecting the years he had spent at Hogwarts. It had started by trying to comprehend how it was possible for a Death Eater to infiltrate the castle and impersonate a teacher for a full year. From there, he went on to question all the events of the last four years. From what he knew now, they did not add up.

Harry knew from _Hogwarts: A History _(he had finally read it last year to placate Hermione) that the wards of the school always inform the Headmaster of any sentient being, even ghosts, that enter or leave the school's grounds. The wards could not be fooled by any means, since they name the consciousness of the being, not who or what the being appears to be. When he had applied this knowledge to his reflection of his school career, he was furious.

Dumbledore had to have know that Voldemort's spirit was on the school grounds in his first year. If what the book had said about the wards was the truth, then the wards would have told the headmaster of the school about Voldemort's spirit in first year, of Tom Riddle's presence in second year, of Sirius Black's break ins in third year, the fact that a Death Eater was impersonating Moody in fourth year and finally, now that Harry thought about it, of his and Cedric's disappearance at the end of the third task. The wards should have also alerted Dumbledore about Peter Pettigrew's presence among the living the minute Percy Weasley bought the rat Animagus to school as a pet. Either Dumbledore saw fit to keep all of those incidents to himself, creating a facade of comfort and control for the staff and students, or he had neglected the wards and his duty to the school that he was charged with running. Either way, Harry no longer trusted the old mage.

Yesterday, Harry had owled Sirius, telling him of his suspicions using a code that they had developed last year. He was still awaiting his dogfather's reply. He hoped Sirius believed him. Harry did not think he could take it if Sirius dismissed him, thinking Harry too young or too ignorant to understand. He pulled himself away from that train of thought, he had more pressing issues.

After thinking it over, he decided it would be best to go to Gringotts and speak to Griphook. Harry went to school trunk and pulled out a quill, ink, and the small silver knife that was part of his potions kit. He seated himself at his desk and reread the instructions.

Harry lightly pricked his index finger, squeezing a drop of blood into the inkwell. After the blood had been added to the ink, he put down his knife, and murmured, "Scrivere Cum Sangue Mihi." When he glanced back at the inkwell, he was surprised to see that the previously black ink had changed to metallic red. He inked his quill and started to write at the base of the Gringotts parchment.

_Mr. Griphook, _

_Thank you for your letter. I do remember you from my first visit to Gringotts, and am honored that you remembered me. I would like to make an appointment with you to discuss the situation about my Trust Vault. Because of certain events that took place in the last year, I do not believe that it is prudent for me to travel out in public to Gringotts. Since I live with my Muggle relatives, my house is not connected to the Floo network to travel to your bank. I was wondering if there was a way that I could travel to Gringotts directly. I am available for an appointment at any time, so I will leave the appointment time up to you. I would like, however, to speak to you as soon as possible. I am sorry to say that I was not aware of any vault other than my Trust, since I was led to believe that that was the Potter Family Vault. I was also unaware that I had inherited any titles. I did not even know that Professor Dumbledore was even my magical guardian. Because of this ignorance, I have many questions. I am looking forward to meeting with you._

_Thank you for your time,_

_Harrison , Duke of Tintagel, Baron Potter, Heir of the Ancient and Most Noble House of Emrys, Sovereign of the magical Realm of Avalon, _

_P.S. I do plan on assuming my titles and inheritance. Is it possible to combine the meeting about my Trust Vault with that?_

Harry put down his quill and said, "Finite," changing the ink back to its original black color. He had written a lot more than he had planned, but as he always did when writing on a subject which he was passionate about, once he started writing, it was hard for him to stop.

It had felt odd addressing himself as a Duke, let alone a Sovereign of a magical Realm, but he guessed he needed to get used to it.

Harry returned to his room after a meager dinner with his relatives (Dudley was on a diet again, and the whole family had to suffer through it) to find that Griphook had written back to him. At the bottom of the Gringotts parchment, his note had vanished, only to be replaced by Griphook's reply.

_Your Grace,_

_It is disturbing news indeed that you had not been informed of your inheritance. It is a crime in both the wizarding and Goblin worlds to withhold any information pertaining to financial and familial identity. We can discuss how you wish to legally proceed, that is, if you would like to press any charges, when we meet. _

_I have taken the liberty of scheduling an appointment with you tomorrow at 10:00 AM. An owl will arrive at your residence at 8:00 AM tomorrow with a portkey that will transport you directly to my office. Once there, I will answer any questions that you may have pertaining to your inheritance or Vaults. After all your questions are answered and you still wish to assume your inheritance, we will be able to conduct the ritual after the meeting. You are welcome to bring any advisers you wish to the meeting._

_Thank you for your time,_

_Griphook_

_Department of Trust Vaults_

Harry sighed, relief flooding him. He did not want to travel to London by himself. It was not the actual journey that worried him, it was his safety. He knew there were hundreds of people looking to kill him now, and he had no way of telling who was an ally and who was an enemy. He did not want to spend the entire journey to Diagon Alley ready to defend himself from every person he passed.

Harry took off his glasses and settled into bed. He was sure that tomorrow would be enlightening. He was sick and tired of being treated like a child. Hopefully now that he was assuming his place in the wizarding world, the place that was his birthright, that treatment would stop. He knew tomorrow was going to be the day that marked the start to his future.

**Please, please, please review! This is my first fanfic, and I welcome all constructive criticisms. This does not include bashing. If you want to point out faults, please offer some way to help me improve my story. **

**I want to assure you that this will not be an extremely overpowered Harry story. Yes, he will be extremely powerful, but the old and new villains are also extremely powerful. There will be old and new allies. **

**There is a lot of back story to many of the characters from different culture's mythology. Here is a list of myths I will be taking information from. Most of the characters not straight from the myths, but follow along many of the same themes that are laid out in their respective myths. Here are a tentative list of characters that it would be helpful to know the myths behind them:**

**Taliesin**

**Cardiwen **

**Sun Wukong (the Monkey King)**

**Publius Vergilius Maro (Both the myths of the historical Virgil and Andrew Lang's myth of Virgil the Sorcerer)**

**Herpo the Foul (from Harry Potter mythology)**

**Orpheus**

**Myrrdin Emrys (Merlin)**

**Enlil**

**Maui**

**Morrigen**

**Ogoun**


	2. Harry Loses His Temper

**The Elixir of Taliesin**

**Summary: Harry receives a letter from Gringotts revealing that he inherited a lot more than gold from his parents. He finds that he is the culmination of a plan that spans thousands of years to save the wizarding world. Harry obtains ancient knowledge from some of the greatest witches and wizards that have ever lived so that he may save the magic from becoming extinct… that is if the people inside his head would stop bickering long enough to let him think!**

**Disclaimer: Roses are red, violets are blue, I don't own Harry Potter, so please don't sue!**

**Many thanks to Teufel1987 for his awesome Beta reader skills!**

**Note to readers: As of 7/6/2011 this chapter has been updated. Thanks to Teufel1987, I have been revised the chapter and added some minor changes. **

**Thank you for your time. I hope you enjoy!**

**Chapter 2: Harry Loses His Temper**

Harry woke early the next morning, hoping to have some time to think about the situation he was now in. He had gone from an average boy of almost fifteen years, famous for something he had no recollection of, alive only because of dumb luck and help from his friends, to a Duke in approximately twenty four hours. Now things were happening so quickly, it felt as if he were just watching his life fly by, like the towns from the window of the familiar Hogwarts express.

Like the night before, Harry did not have his recurring his nightmare of reliving Cedric's death. No, he had awoken from a dream filled with people he had never met, yet they were somewhat strangely familiar. As Harry stirred under his covers, still half asleep, he wondered how they felt so familiar when he was certain he had not met them before. After all, how could he forget a bubbly, black-haired man wearing a yellow toga! He would definitely have remembered meeting an short, aged black man, dressed only in a loin cloth, waving a machete, crying out, "Som'n brin me da rum! Ma jools be gett'n freezy!"

He blamed the dream on bad lettuce from yesterday's dinner (if you could call three leaves of lettuce and a quarter of an orange a meal, even during a diet). How else would he dream of a drunk old Haitian man ('Now how did I know he was Haitian?' Harry thought), screaming about his lack of alcohol and the temperature of his genitalia?

He inwardly sighed, 'If this is what I think about when half-asleep, I should get up and spare myself the mental scarring.'

Harry threw back his covers, and swung his feet out of bed, only to knock something large, black, and furry (which, until this point, had been having a very nice dream about playing fetch with his godson, thank you very much!) onto the floor, which immediately yelped when coming in contact with the hard floor.

Harry grabbed his glasses and wand off of his bedside table. After shoving his glasses onto his face, he whipped away from the form tangled in his sheets, which had transformed into a lanky, thin man with long black hair.

"If this is how you treat your godfather, I'd hate to see what you do to people that aren't family!" Sirius grumbled, still entangled in the sheets.

Harry's mind was thrown into overdrive. 'Why was Sirius here?' He hadn't replied after Harry had sent Hedwig to him with his worries about the Headmaster. 'This may not even be Sirius! Hedwig could have been intercepted, their secret code broken, and an imposter sent in his place.' Harry decided to test him.

Harry pounced on the intruder, pinning him to the ground, wand pointed at his heart. "What gift did you give me in my third year?"

"Harry, it's me! Surely you could see..."

"Polyjuice potion! What was the gift?"

"You saw my Animagus form! You can't..."

"Self-transfiguration! THE GIFT!"

"A Firebolt! I gave you your Firebolt!"

Harry felt relief flood over him. He quickly pulled his godfather into a hug. "Sirius!"

Sirius Black chuckled lightly. "I love you too, pup! But I think we would both be more comfortable up off the floor."

Harry blushed slightly, stood, and helped Sirius to his feet. "Sorry," he mumbled, "had to make sure..."

"Don't apologize! It was my fault. I should be the one apologizing. I am the one who sneaked into your room in the middle of the night. I should have owled you, but I didn't want it to be intercepted. I was going to stay up and wait for you to wake, but I've been traveling for the past two days straight, and I am ashamed to say I fell asleep." Sirius blushed slightly, "It was the first time in a while that I had been able to sleep without having to look over my shoulder, fearing recapture."

"Traveling for two days? Why didn't you use Buckbeak? Did something happen to him?" Harry asked, concerned for both his godfather and the hippogriff.

"Ha!" Sirius barked, " Of course I used Buckbeak. I was hiding in a cave on Majorca when I got your letter, and set off immediately. Where did you think I was hiding, York? I left him in a clearing in the woods about a mile away."

"Oh... Er... So! Have a nice trip?" The conversation was awkward at first since Harry was still embarrassed by his suspicion of his godfather. Sirius, though, quickly brushed this away when he told Harry about the time Beaky dumped him in a wine vat in the Bordeaux wine country after being startled by some fireworks. Both Harry and Sirius had a laugh when Sirius reminisced about trying to remain anonymous when his skin was stained a noticeable burgundy color.

Eventually, Harry and Sirius fell upon the topic of the Headmaster. Harry was relieved to find that Sirius shared his suspicions. Since his escape, Sirius had found that it had been Dumbledore's decision to send him to Azkaban without a trial.

As the story of Dumbledore's treachery was revealed, Harry grew increasingly incensed. It was slowly becoming clear that Dumbledore was never concerned with his precious 'Greater Good'. It was just a justification for his actions. It was a generic cure-all whenever he was caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

Both Sirius and Harry agreed that they would need to gather supporters before they could reveal Dumbledore's treachery. He was too powerful. They would need to bide their time. At this point Harry shivered. He felt this sounded too much like Voldemort and Dumbledore, but Sirius batted his worries away. It was not waiting for an advantage for personal gain, but rather self-preservation. If they revealed their hand before it was possible to survive the confrontation, their cause was lost. Dumbledore would obliterate any opposition if he thought he could get away with it, even the Boy-Who-Lived.

* * *

><p>Tap, tap, tap.<p>

Harry sighed. He thought that he would have time to explain today's events before the Gringotts owl arrived. Apparently he was wrong.

Tap, tap, tap.

"Harry, there is an owl at your window with a watch strapped to its leg. If you don't know who sent it, I don't think you should let it in. That watch is definitely a portkey, and who knows where it will take you? You've already been kidnapped once using those things, I don't want it to happen again."

"Padfoot, I was hoping I would have had time to explain it to you before the owl got here, but I guess now is good a time as any."

Harry went to the window, opened it, and retrieved the watch, only to watch the bird fly away. Harry turned back to his godfather, whose mood had apparently had brightened on being called by his old Marauder nickname, just as Harry had expected. He knew that Sirius would do anything for him, jump in front of an Avada Kedavara, accompany his to a crowded public bank, even help him brave the sharks that call themselves 'journalists', but a little buttering-up never hurt.

"Here, I think you should read this first." Harry handed Sirius the Gringotts letter, not wanting to try and explain it himself. By showing him the letter, Harry could dodge any questions that Sirius had (they would most likely be the same questions Harry had), saying that he was seeking the same answers.

Harry mentally held his mentally held his breath as his godfather read and reread the letter. Sirius looked up and did the last thing Harry expected of him. His eyes rolled up into his head... and he fainted. Yes, the man who was falsely accused of murder, the man who survived twelve years in Azkaban with his sanity mostly intact (there were moments when Harry wasn't exactly certain he had escaped mentally unscathed), the man who helped keep a werewolf in line during the full moon while balancing his studies, the man who had fought on the front lines of the last war as an auror, his godfather, had fainted.

"You have got to be kidding me!" Harry threw his hands up into the air in frustration. He had hoped Sirius would take it in stride. Apparently he was wrong.

He grabbed the glass of water off of his bedside table bent over his godfather. "Come on Sirius!" No response. "Well, here goes nothing." Harry dumped the water unceremoniously over the man on the floor. Immediately his snapped open, sputtering as he tried to clear his airways of the foreign liquid. "Wakey, wakey, Sirius! Rise and shine!"

"Was that really necessary, pup?"

"Sirius you fainted. I gave you a chance to wake up on your own. You didn't wake up. I decided to take a page out of the Marauder's book and take advantage of the situation."

Sirius's face broke into a wide grin, "Well, you are your father's son. I don't know how many times James used _Aguamenti_ to get me out of bed in the morning. If you come to live with me, you had better watch yourself. I always retaliated with a quick _Levicorpus_ before dropping him back on his head." Sirius took on a pensive look for a moment before grinning again. "Now that I think about it, that may be why he did so poorly in his classes. It probably was not the best idea but I will think of something."

Harry chuckled, "We can talk about my living arrangements later, but we have more pressing matters to deal with."

Sirius sobered, "Yes, well, obviously we need answers. I am guessing that the watch is the portkey this..." he glanced back at the parchment, "Griphook sent."

"Yes, and before you ask, I think we should trust him. Goblins are neutral, in fact, most of them hate wizards. To have one gush about meeting me says that respects me... for what reason, I do not _know,_ but a Goblin's respect should never be scorned. You know what happened when King Aelthelstan* spurned Snarltooth, and the resulting Goblin wars." When Sirius adopted a perplexed look, Harry, indignant, defended himself, "Hey! While you may have discounted Binns as an old windbag, I taught myself what I missed during my History of Magic naps." Harry remembered Sirius's reaction to the letter. "Hey, Padfoot, why did you faint?"

"You, who just said that you actually studied what Binns taught, are asking me why I fainted?"

"Why would that have anyth..."

"You seriously were never taught about the Duke of Tintagel and the House of Emrys? It's covered in your first year, when you learn about Britain's magical government!"

"Well, that may be your problem! At the beginning of my time at Hogwarts, I remember Binns complaining about some change in the HoM course program, about taking out sections, and replacing them with international history."

"Damn you, Dumbledore! I suspect he took out those sections to keep you ignorant of your inheritance on the off chance that you learn of it." Sirius's eyes took on a mischievous glint. "Well, I guess the Goblins will tell you, so I don't think I will spoil the surprise." He looked down at the letter again. "This says you may bring advisers. I am coming, and that's that. I will, however, be wanting to borrow your invisibility cloak. While it may be risky, I want to see the look on your face when the surprise is revealed."

Harry smiled. "I had hoped you were going to come along, but..."

Sirius glanced down at the watch on the bedside table, and flinched. He quickly grabbed it. "Shit! Quick, Harry! Hold on. We only have about a half a minute!"

Harry lunged at the watch. No sooner had he grabbed the timepiece, then he felt the familiar jerk behind his navel.

* * *

><p>Harry and Sirius landed in a heap in the center of the main hall of the Goblin bank. Gathering their wits about them (being slammed onto a cold stone floor after having your balance thrown out of whack via portkey was not pleasant), they helped each other to their feet and looked around. Harry chuckled as he heard Sirius muttering under his breath, "Damn portkeys, never could get the landing right."<p>

The first thing the duo noticed was that the hall was close to being empty. Gone were the normal gaggle of witches and wizards complaining about one thing or another to a league of uninterested Goblins. The second thing they noticed (and to the two, this was the more urgent matter at hand) was the absence of the Goblin clerks sitting at the lines of desks. Instead, these bankers were replaced by rows of warriors. Each decked out in some type of armor, armed to the teeth, standing at the ready.

As soon as the duo's brains processed this bit of information, they sprang to the ready. Both adopted dueling stances, ready to fend off any attackers.

'I wonder why they aren't attacking? They could have had us in chains by now,' Harry thought, '...or dead for that matter." he added morbidly.

From the back of the hall, there was a shout from a commanding voice. It sounded odd to Harry's ears, but, given that he could understand the words, he attributed this alien quality of the words to the cavernous nature of the hall. "_BEHOLD, THE MOST NOBLE HARRISON JAMES, THE DUKE OF TINTAGEL! COUNTRYMEN, GIVE HOMAGE WHERE IT IS DUE!_"

As one, the warriors knelt.

As one, the duo's jaws practically hit the floor.

Harry was reeling. Goblins subjugated themselves to no one. They were a proud, independent people. They protected their autonomy at all costs, as illustrated in the dozens of Goblin rebellions around the world. The only person a Goblin was expected to kneel to was the leader of the Goblin Nation, Ragnup or Ratsnap or something like that. He couldn't believe it. They had knelt to a wizard! They had knelt to him!

Both Harry and Sirius were still stunned when a regal looking Goblin walked up to their place at the center of the hall.

"Your Grace, if I may introduce myself, I am Ragnok, Leader of the Goblin Nations, Patriarch of the Gringot Clan, and President of the United Goblin Banking Firm. I wish to welcome you and your companion to our establishment with all the honor due to your station. Since you have decided upon taking up the mantle of the Duke of Tintagel, the whole of the Goblin Nation welcomes you, and wishes to express our joy at this fact."

Harry just stood there, mouth open. He wasn't ready for this. He had just wanted to figure out what the letter had meant, and to learn about his heritage. He knew he must be important because he was a Duke... but this? He was just shell-shocked.

"Say something." Sirius whispered hurriedly in his ear. "Don't just stand there with your mouth wide open. Tell the nice Goblin hello."

"Er... Hello." Sirius let his face fall into his hands in exasperation. Harry cleared his throat and regained his composure, "Thank you for your welcome. I must say that I was surprised to learn of my inheritance. Until this point, I had thought my inheritance only consisted of my mother's eyes, my fathers looks, a magical cloak, and a small pile of gold. Now, I am told that most of my inheritance has been kept a secret, and that someone has been steeling me, you must agree that this is a little overwhelming. Please excuse my earlier lapse in protocol, I am still a bit shell-shocked."

As Harry calmed down, he saw that the Goblin's face was etched with fury. His eyes burned like black coals. Harry knew he had said something to upset the head Goblin. He was starting to get scared.

Ragnok must have seen Harry's fear, for his gaze quickly softened. "I am sorry, sir. I am not angry at you," at this Harry released the breath that he realized he had been holding, "You should have been informed of your full inheritance when you turned eleven. To not only hear that this information had been withheld from you, but to hear that someone has been stealing from you, from the Duke of Tintagel, is quite a blow to the pride of the Goblin Nation. We owe everything we have built as a Nation to your ancestor, the first Duke of Tintagel and the Primo Pater of the House of Emrys. And now that there is finally another, after nearly fifteen hundred years, that fulfills the requirements to ascend to the position of the Duke, we learn that we have failed him in protecting what is rightfully his. I am angry at myself, but also, I am furious that someone dared steal from one of the Goblin-Friends, the members of the House of Emrys." Ragnok took a moment to get his emotions under control again. He motioned to one of the warriors, who hurried up to the group. Ragnok whispered in his ear for a moment before the armored goblin hurried off down a side passage in an obvious hurry. He turned back to the humans, "We should continue this conversation somewhere more comfortable. We will meet with my great-nephew, Griphook, and resolve the issues with your vaults, in addition to answering any questions you may have."

"Thank you, Ragnok. We would be honored." The Goblin nodded and turned on his heel, leading Harry and Sirius into the bowels of the bank.

* * *

><p>Harry and Sirius had been following Ragnok for fifteen minutes when Harry turned to Sirius, "What the fuck just happened?" he whispered, still stunned.<p>

"Language, pup! Language!" He chuckled back. His godson sent him a look that clearly said, 'Really! _You're_ telling _me_ to watch my language!' "Oh my God, I am turning into your mother!" Sirius exclaimed in sudden horrified realisation. "She used to chide your father all the time about his foul mouth. I don't think James started to listen until she started the practice of hitting him upside the head! Well, as to your vulgar question, I told you before, I wanted to see your face when you found out about your inheritance, and I still don't want to ruin the moment."

"You were just as stunned as me back there. We both nearly shat ourselves when we saw those guards. How can you still say that you know what is coming when you probably need a new pair of trousers?"

"I didn't know Myrddin Emrys was so important to the Goblins. I just didn't want to ruin the illusion of the all-knowing godfather!" At this, it was Harry's turn to laugh. The image of Sirius as a wise old sage was just too much. "Well, ha, ha!" replied Sirius sarcastically, "you'll be shut up in a minute."

"Wait a second, I've heard the name Myrddin Emrys before! I just can't remember where..."

"Merlin's moldy shorts! I say this with all the love possible, but, Harry m'boy, you are dense!"

Harry's smart ass reply was cut off by Ragnok's abrupt stop. In front of them was a large set of ancient silver doors. They soared over the trio's heads. Harry guessed that they were at least thirty feet tall. The silver of the doors polished to a mirror-like sheen, almost blinding them with the reflected light of the torches and braziers that illuminated the hallway behind them. Upon the carved frame of the doors were depictions of goblin history. Harry could recognize some of the events: the Treaty of Avalon, the founding of the goblin banks, and finally, the attempted extermination of the goblins by Gellert Grindelwald. This last scene brought tears to Harry's eyes. In front of him, he watched as Grindelwald slaughtered mothers, fathers, and children in his horrible concentration camps, guilty only of being a sentient magical creature. He watched as, not only goblins, but also centaurs, house elves, giants, and merpeople were tortured to death. He had to admit, no matter what Dumbledore had done, Harry respected him, if only because he put a stop to this massacre.

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><p>Harry blinked away his tears, only to see Griphook had joined their party. The other three were not examining the door as Harry had been doing, but instead, they were watching him... watching him cry.<p>

"Er... Sorry," he said when he had found his voice, blushing slightly at his show of weakness "I hate seeing the innocent in pain. I guess full reality of Grindelwald's concentration camps hadn't been explained to me till now.. They were tortured and killed, only because they were not human. Grindelwald and his followers forfeited their own humanity in their quest to make humanity ascendant in the magical world. No matter what Dumbledore has done to me in the past, he will always have my respect for defeating this... this... this monster."

Sirius warped his arms around Harry's shoulder, tears glistening in his eyes. Ragnok looked at Harry with a mixture of pride and awe. Griphook's expression was equitable to Harry's and Sirius's when the goblins in the Entrance Hall had knelt: jaw dropped, eyes bugging.

Finally, Ragnok spoke up, his voice shaky with emotion, "You honor us with your sorrow. Sometimes I have cursed my own race because we are physically unable to cry. We are not even able to be sorrowful for lengthy periods of time. It just turns to anger and hate. This is why most creatures see us as underlings, because it is difficult for us to exhibit emotions, we are unable to mourn. You, on the underhand see our sorrow as your own, in doing so you allow us to heal. Heal, but not forget. Never forget! But you allow us to move on. I can see that you truly are an Emrys. I do not need a piece of paper to tell me that now. I can see it in your actions and in your emotions."

Ragnok stared at him, pride and hope gleaming in his eyes. Sirius looked uneasily from one goblin to the other. Finally he cleared his throat. This apparently snapped Ragnok back into reality.

"Ah... well... back to business!" Ragnok blushed slightly ('Call the _Prophet_!' Harry thought, 'a goblin is blushing!'), embarrassed that a wizard had to remind a goblin about business matters.

At this, Harry looked away from Ragnok. He knew that goblins were a proud people. He knew that goblin society saw blushing (or showing any emotion other than amusement and fury, for that matter) as very shameful. He was starting to like Ragnok, he did not want to the goblin to know that he had seen him doing anything uncouth.

Harry's eyes refastened on the door since it seemed like a safe location. 'Goblins love it when others admired their race's handy-work, although they would never admit it to someone.' Harry thought, and again, for the second time in twenty-four hours he found himself thinking, 'Now how do I know that?'.

He examined the main feature of the doors. In the center, spanning the hairline crack that split the work of art, was a monumental depiction of a mountain. As Harry examined it carefully, his jaw dropped. He observed that it wasn't a mountain (or, at least, it wasn't just a mountain), it was a city.

Harry could see the miniscule doors that provided entrance into the city at the base of the edifice. As the mountain climbed into the sky, Harry could see windows, balconies, and terraces carved into the stone, all spiraling up to the summit, which split a quarter from the top, creating twin peaks, separated only by a steep ravine. Upon each peak was a tower, linked by a long stone bridge. Harry knew, from the scale of the mountain and the size of the windows, that to only call these buildings towers was like calling Hogwarts Castle a cottage. These towers were regal, light, and airy, almost as if, instead of the mountain supporting the towers, the towers were pulling the mountain up, out of the ground.

There was something familiar to Harry about this mountain. He knew he had never seen anything remotely like this, but he felt it calling to him, like those towers were where he was meant to be. They felt like home.

It was Ragnok's turn to clear his throat. Harry's eyes snapped back to the goblin, seeing an amused expression on his face, it was Harry's turn to flush with embarrassment.

"Er... Sorry, I don't know what came over me. It was like the mountain was calling to me. Please forgive me for my ignorance, but, where is that? If it is a goblin secret, I again ask your forgiveness, and again ask you to forgive me because of my ignorance. But I had to ask, I feel it calling my magic. It feels like... I know this must sound silly, but... well... it feels like home."

For the first time, all three of his companions were found with their mouths hanging open. Ragnok was the first to recover. Well, recover in the sense that he was able to speak. He turned to Griphook and said, in speech that echoed the alien quality of the words he heard shouted in the entrance hall, practically bouncing with excitement, "_It's him, Grip, its actually him! I couldn't believe it when you first brought word that he had accepted the inheritance, but it's really him! If I could cry, I would be flooding the room with my happiness. We have finally found Taliesin! We will be free!_" Ragnok finally seemed to actually process what he was seeing. Griphook was not as reserved as his Great-uncle. He was actually jumping up and down, clapping his hands excitedly. Ragnok took on a more reserved pose, and grabbed Griphook's shoulders to stop him from imitating a pogo stick (although Harry knew that the goblins probably hadn't even heard of a pogo stick before). "_Calm down, Grip. We are goblins, __not house elves. Remember, we can't reveal the prophecy to Taliesin until after he assumes his inheritance. Now, can you calm down enough to behave yourself?_" Griphook looked slightly put-out at the reprimand. Looking at his feet in defeat, he nodded. "_Good_." Ragnok turned back to Harry and Sirius. This time, when Ragnok spoke, the alien quality of his voice was gone, "I am sorry, Griphook is still young in goblin years, he gets excited very easily."

Harry, for what felt like the millionth time in the past two days, he felt very confused. Harry was tired of being confused. He decided to get some answers. He decided to try and cast his voice in the alien manner that Ragnok had just spoken in. The goblins seemed more relaxed when speaking with that odd lilt. He was tired of being in the dark. He wanted answers, and he wanted them now!

"Can someone please start explaining what is happening! I get a letter saying that: 1) money is vanishing from my vault; 2) that this is not my only vault, contrary to what I have been led to believe; 3) I am a Baron and a Duke... a _Duke_... and again, no one thought to inform me; 4) while I inherited the Barony from my father, I inherited the Duchy and the Dukedom from my _MUGGLE-BORN_ mother; 5) I have not only inherited a seat on the Wizengamot from my father, but I also inherited ten seats from my (again do I have to say it?) _MUGGLE-BORN_ mother, which, by the way, shouldn't be possible since one can only have one vote per title as Head of House, so a _MOST_ I should only have two, not eleven! And now.. now I find that there is some sort of prophecy about me! That I am... what did you call it... Taliesin! Forgive me for my outburst, but I want answers, AND I WANT THEM _NOW_! If I am all these things I think I deserve some answers!"

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><p>From the beginning of Harry's rant, all three companions were floored. As soon as Harry started speaking, Sirius's mind was thrown into overdrive. 'How in Merlin's name does he know Gobbledegook? He is speaking it like it is his native language! He even knows the idioms for Merlin's sake! The only people outside the Goblin Nation that can speak that language are humans who are in positions of power in the bank, and even they are only taught enough to get by with. The only reason that I can understand him because of the translation charms I performed so I could get by when I was on the run!'<p>

As Harry progressed in his rant, Sirius became scared, and not scared in the sense of, "O shit! You startled me!" but rather, "Holy fuck! What have I gotten myself into! I'm not going to live to see tomorrow!" terrified. The only other time he had been this frightened was after he had refused to join old Voldie and had to duel his way out of a warded ancestral mansion filled with Death Eaters. 'Harry doesn't realize the power he wields!' Sirius realized with a shock. The only time he had felt close to this much power was when Dumbledore led the charge, storming a Death Eater fortress while trying to rescue some kidnapped students, and even then Dumbledore's power was like the Thames to Harry's Nile.

When Harry had finally come around to mentioning the Goblin's mention of a prophecy and the title of Taliesin, even the goblins were scared. Griphook had backed into the corner of the hallway, between the silver doors' frames and the wall. Ragnok was attempting to shield his great-nephew's body from harm, putting himself between the younger goblin and the magical maelstrom that was exhibiting itself in the hallway, chanting in a deep ancient tongue that was laced with the goblin's own magic. Sirius had long since cast the most powerful shield charm that he knew, hoping it would be enough to save his life (he knew it was not potent enough to allow him to walk away unscathed, but he would choose maimed over dead any day) if his godson had lost his strenuous control.

* * *

><p>Meanwhile, the cavernous hall was in chaos.<p>

At the beginning of the speech, the thing that had warned the trio that Harry was losing control was that the hall was suddenly filled with a wind, a gentle breeze at first (which was odd to begin with, being that they were more than a half a mile underground) but it quickly increased in force, to the point that it would not be out of place in a typhoon. The magical wind whipped around Harry, picking up any loose debris, ripping doors off their hinges, pulling tongues of fire out from the braziers that lit the hall.

Every so often, Sirius got a glimpse of Harry through the tornado of fire and debris. He could see his godson was no longer standing on the floor, but rather, he was levitating, level with the top of the ancient silver doors, twenty feet up. His had gone beyond his normal brilliant emerald color, they were glowing. Light flowed from those emerald pools. Sirius was entranced by the depths of knowledge he could see in Harry's eyes. It was beautiful and terrible at the same time. No one being should hold that amount of knowledge, and yet, here was his godson, the boy he wanted to adopt ever since that fateful Halloween night, almost thirteen and a half years ago. As quickly as Sirius's glance into Harry's eyes appeared, it was torn away, as a piece of debris or tongue of flame obscured his line of sight.

He knew if Harry lost control and accidentally hurt someone, he would be devastated. He was too pure of a soul to not be. Harry would see it as his fault. It was his power, he had lost control over it, he could have stopped it. Sirius knew that this line of thinking could destroy his godson, so he decided to do the only thing that he knew would calm Harry, even if he did have to put his own life at risk.

Sirius dropped his magical shield, and slowly made his way to the source of the magical cyclone. Each step was torture. The closer he got to Harry, the more Harry's magic called out to his own.

Sirius's magic burned inside his veins, wanting to be released, wanting to join the wonderful dance that Harry had created. Its master, however, was too stubborn to let it join, to let it play. Did the master not know that the boy held ancient magics, foreign magics that were either extremely rare, or had left this earth all together? Why did the master not want to be part of that, to surrender themselves and bask in the power? Sure, both the boy's and its master's bodies would need to be destroyed, so that they too may join in the dance, but that is inconsequential to the joy that could be found in the ancient magics.

Sirius did not hear his magic's pleas and urgings in a physical sense, but he felt its intentions. He knew that if he did not stop Harry soon, the only person he saw as family would be consumed by his own power. The boy he saw as his son (God damn it! Fuck adoption, Harry was his son! And nothing the Ministry of Magic or Dumbledore can say would change that!) would die, and then Sirius would be alone in the world. Yes, there was still Remus, but Sirius hadn't heard from him since that night more than a year ago when Pettigrew was revealed and had subsequently escaped. He didn't even know if Remus wanted Sirius back into his life ('Who would want to hang around a person which you could get thrown into Azkaban for even being near!' Sirius repeatedly thought during those long hours on the run, with only Beaky and Harry's letters as company). Harry was the only thing keeping him sane. He was his only reason to live, and Sirius was damned well NOT going to let anything happen to his son!

"Harry!" Sirius called out, when he could go no further, "Harry, its Sirius! You're scaring me! I love you Harry, and I hate seeing you this way! You are like a son to me, Harry! Fuck Dumbledore! Fuck the Ministry! You are my son, and I damn well will _not_ let you lose yourself in this power! You are better than this! Please, Harry!" Sirius was pleading now, tears raining down his cheeks into his scruffy beard, "Please, Harry! Come back! I don't want to live in a world without you! I lost you once on that Halloween years ago, and I will not lose you again!" Now Sirius was hysterical, "COME BACK HARRY! COME HOME!"

* * *

><p>Harry was jolted back to reality. He was scared. The last thing he remembered was him yelling at the top of his lungs that he wanted answers. Now he was floating twenty feet above the ground, surrounded in a whirlwind of fire and debris, air thick with magic. He heard someone screaming, and realized it was Sirius.<p>

"Please, Harry! Come back! I don't want to live in a world without you! I lost you once that Halloween years ago, and I will not lose you again! COME BACK, HARRY! COME HOME!"

Tears sprang to Harry's eyes. He had hurt Sirius. He had hurt the only person that had truly loved him since his parents had been killed. Sirius was hysterical. The man who survived Azkaban, survived a year on the run alone with only a hippogriff for company, was scared for him. Harry could see burns all over his body, places where the fire from the tornado had burned away clothing and seared his flesh, but he had ignored that. He could see places where pieces of stone, fragments of wood, and shards of metal had gouged his skin, but Sirius hadn't seemed to notice. His eyes, no, his entire being was focused on Harry. He was not scared for his own safety, but was scared for the one doing this to him.

Instantaneously, the wind stopped and the fire returned to their sources in the braziers around the hall. Harry lowered the debris to the floor, careful to avoid Sirius and the pair of goblins that he had just spotted in the corner. Slowly he floated back to the floor, eyes returning to their normal deep emerald color.

Harry rushed over to Sirius and threw his arms around him. "I'm sorry! I'm so, so, sorry!" Harry kept repeating this mantra over and over, while Sirius returned the hug, repeating, "It's alright, pup. Everything is gonna be fine." Neither realized that they were crying.

* * *

><p>As Ragnok finally allowed Griphook out from behind him, the two approached the human pair cautiously. Ragnok had been alive for a long time, he was old. Old even to goblins' standards. He had seen the last Duke when he was young. He had felt the power emitted by that ancient wizard at his peak. Even when his power was unmasked in that final battle where he gave his life to defeat his foe, his power was nothing like the display he had just seen before him.<p>

For the first time in his life, Ragnok the Fearless, who had led the Goblin Nation for the past millennium, was scared. He had not been scared for his life. No, he knew that his life was nothing when compared to the welfare of the Goblin Nation. No. He was scared at the possibility of having this wizard (no that was not the right word), this being, as an enemy. He knew that Taliesin was supposed to be a savior, but what if the ancient prophets were wrong? What if this boy was magic's doom? Surely nothing could stand against him. He was power incarnate.

Ragnok shook his head. 'No! I cannot doubt the prophecies. They are the only thing giving many magical creatures hope these days. That one day, they may be free! Yes, it is clear that this boy is Taliesin. Yes, this boy is our savior. If he was not pure of heart, why is he even now apologizing? Why is he crying?' Ragnok could feel the grief, sorrow, and regret flowing off of the boy, 'Yes! This is the one! This is Taliesin!' Ragnok's eyes widened, as he suddenly remembered another verse of the prophecy. 'Now there is no doubt, our savior has arrived.'

* * *

><p>When Harry had finally pulled himself together, he turned to Ragnok, regret still deeply etched in his eyes. "Lord Ragnok, I am truly sorry. I don't know what happened. I assure you, I will pay for all the damages, both physical and emotional, even if it empties all of my vaults. I hope you can accept my..."<p>

Ragnok cut the boy off with a smile, " Your Grace, I don't think you understand your situation. It will all be explained when we reach the ordained place. I am sorry, your frustration is my fault. I should have explained before we started our journey into the bank. I am not trying to delay informing you of your inheritance, nor am I trying to delay any questions pertaining to the failure on our part with regards to your Trust Vault. No, I am only fulfilling the final request of the Last Will and Testament of the previous duke, that the first meeting between the Leader of the Goblin Nation and the his heir occur in a specific place. We are, in fact, almost there. We only need to travel through this door behind me. I, however, am not able to open it. That task lies to you. You must place your wand hand over the crack in the door and say, "drych mawr, yn agor y drws i gartref", this should allow us to pass through it."

Harry hesitantly stretched his arm out, laying his palm on the seam of the door. 'Here goes nothing!'

"DRYCH MAWR, YN AGOR Y DRWS I GARTREF!" Harry spoke softly, but his words transformed as soon as they left his mouth. They lowered in pitch, almost to the point of being painful to hear, and reverberated around the hall.

Under his hand, he felt the door change. One moment it was solid silver, the next it was liquid, almost like the mercury and gallium he sometimes used in Potions. Ripples fanned out over the door in all directions, as the mountain, still solid, sank beneath the surface of the surrounding liquid like some primeval ship sinking beneath the waves.

Harry quickly withdrew his hand, only to see that it was, surprisingly, completely clean. He had expected some of the liquid silver to be pulled away.

As soon as the Harry's hand was removed, the party watched in awe as the ripples dissipated at the edges of the doors, leaving a mirror smooth, vertical lake of liquid silver.

Ragnok smiled and turned to Harry, bowing low, "After you, sir. You just step right through," Seeing Harry's hesitation, he added, "There is nothing to fear, this is just a family gate, they just give ancestral homes protection between the time of the death of one Head of House, and the time when the Heir can accept their inheritance."

Harry found himself thinking, for what felt like the tenth time today, 'Here goes nothing!' and with that, he walked through the portal into his ancestral home.

*** Yes, his name is also spelled Athelstan, but this is the Normanized form. Aethelstan was the Anglo-Saxon and Welsh form. Since the magical community in Britain was more successful in preserving their heritage during the Norman Conquest, I will be using many old forms of Normanized names.**

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><p><strong>OK readers! I'm gonna need your input. Harry is going to inherit a familiar. Please help me decide! The choices are<strong>

**Nundu**

**Cerberus**

**Dire Crow (like a large sentient Crow, able to blend into shadows, and can dissolve into a black mist)**

**I have deleted the earlier serpent-like choices. I have to agree with some of my readers, they have been done to death.**

**Note to Readers: REVIEW! PLEASE REVIEW! I have no idea what you think if you don't review.**

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	3. The Tor and the Wizard

**The Elixir of Taliesin**

**Summary: Harry receives a letter from Gringotts revealing that he inherited a lot more than gold from his parents. He finds that he is the culmination of a plan that spans thousands of years to save the wizarding world. Harry obtains ancient knowledge from some of the greatest witches and wizards that have ever lived so that he may save the magic from becoming extinct… that is if the people inside his head would stop bickering long enough to let him think!**

**Disclaimer: Roses are red, violets are blue, I don't own Harry Potter, so please don't sue!**

**Many thanks to Teufel1987 for his awesome Beta reader skills!**

**Note to readers: As of 7/7/2011 this chapter has been updated. Thanks to Teufel1987, I have been revised the chapter and added some minor changes.**

**Thank you for your time. I hope you enjoy!**

Blah Narration

"Blah" Speech

_Blah _Letter

**Blah** Mind-speak

"_Blah"_ Speech in a different language

**Sorry for the delay in the update. I am on vacation, and I have been having trouble finding enough time to sit in one place and write. Thanks for your patience. Here's chapter three!**

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><p><strong>Chapter 3: The Tor and the Wizard<strong>

Harry had expected something grand; people kept telling him he was a Duke anyway. He would have expected something like the entrance hall at Hogwarts, or a mansion's welcoming area. That would have been fine with Harry. This, however, was a different story. _This_ was just too much to deal with right now.

Harry stood at the edge of an immense span of marble, delicate designs flitting in and out of the massive swirls of colour captured within the stone. Pillars of every colour lined the gargantuan entrance hall, their flutes spiralling up into the arched ceiling that was at least fifty feet above his head. Ahead of him was a grand staircase, rising up, up, up, adorned with dark, carved banisters that looked to be grown out of the stone itself. It was not cold and austere as it should be, but rather, it exuded warmth and welcomed Harry into its arms, happy that its Master had returned. This hall was worthy of any palace, but it was here, in his home.

"H-home," Harry stammered, "I'm home?" He could not believe it. This was his home, _his_ home. No one could take it away from him, not Voldemort, not the Dursleys, not Dumbledore. It was his, and he would always have this place to call his home.

Harry did not hear Sirius step through the mirror, but he now felt him, a fuzzy tingling, distinct, yet familiar. He turned to his godfather, "Sirius... I-I'm home." He ran to his godfather and practically tackled him as he latched on to the only person in the world that loved him like family.

"Yes, pup. You are home." Sirius was happy for his son. He needed a place to call home. And yet ... Sirius mourned. Harry had a home. This was _Harry's_ home. As for himself, he was still on the run he was still a wanted criminal. He couldn't endanger the only place Harry could relax with his presence. He could hide out at the old Black mansion, but that had never truly been his home. He had been hated there because he had been a Gryffindor. But this wasn't time to brood. Sirius mentally shook himself, "Yes, Harry. You are home."

As if Harry sensed his godfather's train of thought, he pulled away, holding Sirius at arm's length. He looked his godfather straight in the eye and said, "No Sirius. _We_ are home. I will not allow you to run away because of some silly notion of protecting me. I have a home now and I need to share it with someone, I want to share it with you. I finally have a chance to have you in my life, and Merlin be damned if I am going to let you slip away! You have a home now too, Sirius, you are safe."

Sirius wanted to argue with Harry. He wanted to, but he didn't get the chance. Ragnok and Griphook chose that moment to walk through the portal. Once the tips of their elongated ears cleared the surface of the liquid mirror, the door reformed, creating a mirror image of the door that was hidden deep within the bowls of the Goblin bank.

"Your Grace," Ragnok stated regally, commanding Harry and Sirius's full attention. "I would like to be the first to welcome you to the ancestral home of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Emrys, your home. Welcome to Tor Emrys, citadel of Avalon."

* * *

><p>Harry was still in shock. For the past hour and a half, Ragnok had led them on a tour of Tor Emrys. They had finally finished the tours of the major rooms in the South Tower, the public area of the citadel. Harry was astounded at the lavish nature of the rooms. Everywhere Harry looked, he found priceless treasures, the very best of the very best. Harry hoped the private rooms were less ornate. He didn't think he could take living in a museum. They were currently on their way to the North Tower, the area of Tor Emrys which contained the family quarters, libraries, potions labs, and guest quarters set aside for friends and family.<p>

Ragnok halted, stopping at the top of the Grand Staircase. Situated in front of the group were two great copper doors, rivalling the silver doors to Gringotts in beauty. These did not depict the mountain city, but rather a family seal, a crossed sword and staff.

Ragnok turned to Harry, "This is the seal of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Emrys. To pass beyond these doors, one must either accompany you or you must give them your permission to the Citadel to allow entrance into the North Tower. This permission may be permanent or for a specific time period. For you to enter, all you have to do is will the doors to open, and the Citadel will obey your command, as will all doors."

Harry waited for Ragnok to continue. After a few minutes, he realized that they were waiting for him to open the door. Harry blushed slightly, embarrassed. "Sorry." He focused his mind on the door and thought, 'OPEN!' The doors shot open, banging off the walls in their haste.

'You didn't have to shout. A simple _please_ would have sufficed!' Harry jumped as he heard the deep female voice in the back of his mind.

'Sorry.' Harry replied mentally, 'I didn't know.'

* * *

><p>"Excuse me, your Grace, we need to move on. We still have much to do today, sir." Ragnok looked slightly concerned. Harry realized that he must have looked odd, standing there, staring into space as he spoke to the house.<p>

"Sorry Ragnok, just thinking. Let's go."

As the party passed through the doors, Harry realized that he shouldn't have been surprised at what lay beyond, but somehow, he was. He had expected to pass into another hallway, or a courtyard, or even a portrait gallery, but no! He should have known there would be nothing ordinary about this castle.

He had walked through the doors and right out onto... a bridge. He was trying to figure out what was going on when it hit him. He stopped looking around for the answers. Instead, he looked up. Rising above him were the two twin palaces that he had seen perched atop the mountain city that was inscribed on the silver door.

Harry gasped, the revelation hitting him like a charging hippogriff, and quickly walked over to the white marble railing that was separating him from falling to his doom, and looked down. He had expected to see the hundreds of terraces, windows and balconies that studded the mountain below him but all Harry saw was mist. 'So that solves that question!' Harry thought smugly to himself, 'That's why they call Avalon the Isle of the Mists.'

He looked back to the group, and hurried to catch up. They were already half way across the bridge, and hadn't seemed to notice his absence.

He caught up with Ragnok just as they arrived at the door leading into the North Tower.

* * *

><p>The North Tower was not as austere and formal as the one they had just left. It was built and furnished for utility and comfort, while still retaining its regal nature. 'I could definitely learn to love it here.' Harry thought as he passed through a relatively small sitting room filled with overstuffed armchairs and a large crackling fire.<p>

By the time they arrived on the top floor's landing, Harry was starving. It was well past lunch time, and the only refreshments they had consumed were a good cup of tea and a few biscuits while Ragnok had explained the general layout of the castle. Harry knew Sirius was hungry from his constant murmured complaints ("When are we going to get a damn bite to eat?"). Although it was hard to tell, Harry was pretty sure that he had heard the goblins' stomachs rumble in agreement to his godfather's nagging.

Now, as they neared the plain wooden door that led to the rooms beyond the balcony, Sirius had apparently had enough.

"Now see here, Ragnok! Here you are leading us all over creation for God knows how long. Don't goblins even have the common decency to...?" The rest of Sirius diatribe was cut off as Harry clamped a hand over the idiot that was his godfather's mouth.

"I am sure what Sirius had meant to say, sir," Harry hedged, trying to cover for Sirius' gaffe as Ragnok looked like he was either ready to kill Sirius, then and there, or burst out laughing (it was hard to tell with goblins). "Was that we have been walking for an extended period of time without the chance to stop and rest. I must beg your pardon, my godfather has not been afforded adequate nutrition this past year while he has been in hiding, and I, myself, have suffered from malnutrition multiple times in the past." At this, Sirius's eyes, which up until this point were glaring daggers at Ragnok, snapped to Harry, full of a mixture of concern and fury. 'Damn,' Harry thought, 'now Sirius will want to know how this happened, and from there, the other abuse will come out.' Harry continued as if he had not noticed Sirius's reaction, "As such, we are not as tolerant to physical stress as we should be. I believe my godfather will be much more... amicable if we rest for refreshments."

There was a moment of silence in which Griphook stood removed from the other three, eyes flitting back and forth nervously between the members.

Harry was startled out of the tense silence the sudden sound of enthusiastic clapping. He jumped in surprise, eyes hastily scanning his surroundings for the source of the out-of-place sound.

"Well done, my boy! Very well done! I am glad you are so verbally nimble. You should do very well if, and most likely when, you have to dance through that hell – scape that people call politics. Ah, it has been so long, I had almost forgotten the format of the political apology: the apology, the excuse, the subtle insult, and the explanation. We must, however, work on your ability to silencing unwanted conversation. While the hand-over-the-mouth technique in not necessarily the most covert method, it has its uses. You do know that it only works if you trust the person you are silencing don't you? Otherwise, the person will just bite your hand and continue talking; then all you have to show for your efforts is a possibly broken finger. Trust me on this one, I found out the hard way."

Harry was shocked to find that this odd speech (and assumedly the clapping) had originated from the door in front of them. Well, it wasn't actually the door itself, but rather the transparent head that had emerged from the door unnoticed during Harry's attempt to cover Sirius's misstep.

The head quickly retracted back into the room it had originated in. From the other side of the plain wooden door, the ghost cried out, "You had better hurry, your lunch is getting cold!"

Ragnok looked slightly flustered for a moment, his regal and business-like demeanour lost, but it quickly returned (although not before Harry heard him mutter something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like, "impatient, half-crazed spectre"). He turned to Harry. "This entire floor makes up the ducal private apartments. After lunch, we will conduct the business relating to the original purpose of your visit to Gringotts and answer any questions you wish answered, and I am sure that there will be quite a few of them. After that, you will be free to explore the apartments. Tonight, you are free to sleep here tonight, as this is your house," Harry chuckled at the thought of this palace as only a house, "or you may go back to Privet Drive. We must, however be back here tomorrow for the rituals that need to be performed so that you may ascend to your inheritance."

"Thank you, Ragnok. I am happy to sleep here tonight. Now, I suggest we go and eat before you need to replace that door. If we wait any longer, Sirius is liable to break it down to get to the food behind it."

* * *

><p>They had eaten their lunch in near silence. Ragnok was still fuming silently from Sirius's insult, Griphook was still watching his companions nervously, Sirius was wolfing down his food so fast, Harry was surprised he had time to breathe, let alone speak, and the ghost had floated lazily in a chair, artfully sidestepping any question that was posed to him.<p>

Now they were seated in a parlour off of the dining room, the ghost seeming to lounge in midair. They had retired to this comfortable room to finally discuss the reason Harry was there, his Trust Vault and his inheritance.

Although Harry's seat was extremely comfortable, he fidgeted. He was not sure what to make of this new ghost. Harry had wondered all through lunch who the spectre was. The man was dressed plainly in an unadorned black robe, tied at his waist with a length of rope. He commanded a presence worthy of any king, and yet, at times, seemed as eccentric as Dumbledore. His hair had been cropped extremely short, sticking straight up from his head. His beard was large and wiry and quivered when he spoke or smiled (which seemed to be constantly).

All in all, Harry felt himself subconsciously liking this man, but pushed this to the back of his mind. The ghost hadn't introduced himself, and Harry wondered at the reason for this. The ghost's presence in the castle proved that he had once lived here, but who was he? Was he a servant, one of Harry's ancestors, or a guest who dropped dead of a heart attack? Harry couldn't know.

Harry shrugged mentally and decided to initiate this meeting. He was going to get answers and he felt he had waited long enough. He surveyed the four other beings in the room for a moment and addressed them, "Well, I have to say, I am well fed, comfortable, and ready for a nice long talk. Am I correct to assume that we can finally attend to business?" Harry glanced at Ragnok, who nodded. "Good. Now, before we address the Trust Vault, I would like to know your name sir ghost. We will be speaking of the business of my House, and I don't even know why you are here. I would be loath in my duties as Heir of the Noble and Most Ancient Houses of Emrys and Potter if I allow you to participate in our discussions without confirming your identity." Harry hoped the ghost did not take this the wrong way. He wanted to like this ghost, he really did, but he would damn well not allow the possibility that this conversation coould leak back to Dumbledore or Voldemort.

For the first time, Harry saw the ghost's face loose all emotion, turning from a warm welcoming smile to a blank slate in the blink of an eye. Harry hoped he didn't just insult someone that could make his life here at Tor Emrys miserable.

The ghost held his face resolute, but it seemed that emotions were building behind the dark orbs that were his eyes. Finally, the ghost couldn't hold it in anymore, he burst out laughing.

"Ha ha ha hahaha! Ooohhh! I was right about you, sonny! You are just what this House needs!" He looked at the confused look on Harry's face and burst out laughing again, "Ha Ha Hoooo! Oh, watching you whip those dunderheads at the ministry into shape will be soooooo fun to watch. Anywhoo... I am Myrrdin Emrys, your ancestor, and the First Duke of Emrys."

At the mention of the ghost's name, Sirius gasped in shock. Harry twisted in his chair to see why his godfather was startled. Sirius just sat there, eyes wide, mouth opening and closing like a beached fish. He glanced back at the ghost, eyes pleading the spectre to explain.

"Ah, you probably know me by another name ... Merlin."

'What... How ... If he's ... No, it's not... Can it...' Harry's mind struggled to process this information. He was reeling. Eventually, his mind just shut down and his vision went black.

Harry Potter had fainted.

* * *

><p>"<em>Levicorpus!"<em>

"Argh!" Harry found himself violently yanked up in the air, dangling by his ankle. "Get me down! Who..." He glanced around, taking in the people surrounding him.

Merlin ('He's bloody MERLIN!' Harry thought) was sitting on the floor, seeming to have lost the minuscule amount of concentration needed to float, laughing his arse off, pearly tears of mirth streaming down his transparent cheeks. Griphook's shoulders were shaking, his long-fingered hand clamped over his mouth, trying to maintain his composure. Even Ragnok's eyes glinted with amusement.  
>Then Harry's eyes fell upon his godfather. 'Well, why am I surprised? He did say he would have his revenge.' Harry didn't blame Sirius, but also decided that his godfather couldn't get away scot-free.<p>

"Sirius, dear godfather," Harry said quietly, calmly, "I know you like to sleep in your Animagus form. If you don't let me down within the next thirty seconds, one morning you may very well wake up a shaved mutt."

The Animagus paled. He was proud of his looks, even when he was a Grim. He counted them among his best attributes. He knew the loss of his hair while a Grim would reciprocate itself in his human form. 'Plus,' Sirius thought, 'who's ever heard of a pink, naked Grim? I would be a laughing stock.'

"You wouldn't dare." It was half a question, half an assertion.

"Try me." Harry deadpanned.

Sirius gulped lowered his godson gently to the ground.

Harry diffused the tension by sticking his tongue out at his godfather, changing from the cool collected noble to the annoying fourteen-year-old instantaneously.

* * *

><p>Once everyone had composed themselves and Sirius had helped himself to some Bourbon[T4] , it was Merlin who drew them back to the topic at hand.<p>

"Now," Harry shivered. This was not the playful, eccentric wizard, but rather the Merlin of legend, commanding power and majesty as if it was a cloak to be donned at will. "We have business to attend to. My old friend, Ragnok, has informed me that someone has been stealing from you[T5] ." His gaze shifted to Ragnok, "This is unacceptable, and it will stop." He refocused on Harry. "While I will leave the details to be handled by you, my boy, it will stop, and they _will_ be punished."

"I agree, Myrddin," Harry was surprised to find that Ragnok was on a first name basis with the greatest wizard in English history, "To have someone steal from the Heir of the House of Emrys is not only an insult to you, but also to the Goblin Nation as a whole."

"I was hoping," Harry said when he realized they were waiting for his input, "To just stop them from stealing anymore, whoever they are. I don't want my enemies aware that I know of their treachery."

"_You can't do that!_" Apparently Griphook had overcome his earlier embarrassment concerning his outburst about the mysterious prophecy. Ragnok glared at his relative and made a slight silencing motion with his hand. "_No, Great-Uncle! He obviously doesn't know who the Emrys were to us, who Myrddin is to us,_" At the mention of Merlin's name, Harry could see the aura of power vanish. The shade had actually blushed! Looking down, Myrddin Emrys busied himself with fixing the knot in the rope that was acting as his belt, "_He doesn't know who the Heir of House Emrys is to us. He has to understand!_"

Harry sighed, "_So tell me so I can understand._"

The goblin just stared, horrified that he had forgotten that Harry could understand gobbledegook. 'They never did explain my sudden gift for that language.' Harry thought, frustrated.

"_Seeing that my Great-Nephew is currently incapable of coherent speech in his embarrassment, I think it would be best if you explain Myrrdin. You are the one responsible._"

"_You know I hate that story being repeated, Ragnok._" said Merlin, still blushing, "_I just did what I thought was right. Why can't you just let the topic drop?_"

"_Old friend, if you can't see how important your actions were to the goblins, then, despite all your knowledge and power, you are an idiot._"

Griphook was scandalized, Harry was dumbfounded, Sirius just roared with laughter.

"Well," Harry's godfather said, wiping tears from his eyes, "I guess I now know where Harry gets his penchant for marginalizing many of his deeds. It certainly wasn't from James, the bloke used to thrive on attention!"

"Really," Merlin's blush was gone, he just looked intrigued, "and what deeds would those be?"

"Sirius..." Harry warned. He really didn't like how people seemed to go on and on about what he had done.

"Well, let me see," Sirius's face took on a fake pensive nature, "In his first year, he stopped Voldemort from stealing the Philosopher's Stone, and thus gaining eternal life. In his second year, he killed a thousand year old basilisk, destroyed a Dark magical artefact, stopped Voldemort from slaughtering all the muggleborns in Hogwarts, and saved Ginny Weasley from Voldemort's possession. In the third year, he saved me and a hippogriff from the Dementor's Kiss and execution respectively. Oh, and in his fourth year, out-flew a dragon, saved Ron Weasley and Gabrielle Delacour from drowning at the bottom of a lake filled with grindylows, a kraken, and pissed-off merepeople, defeated Acromantula, Blast-Ended Skrewts, and Boggarts in an enchanted maze, and brought back the body of friend, during the middle of a battle with a reincarnated Voldemort, just because his friend's shade asked him to. These, however, are only the things I know about. I am sure there are probably more."

Harry started looking around for something hard to beat his head against. He didn't know why everyone praised those actions so much. Most of the time, he had help or he didn't think before jumping into the fray.

Merlin just smiled, "I was right, it will be fun watching you turn the wizarding world on its ear... Well, back to the Trust Vault, I don't think..."

"Oh no, Myrddin Emrys," Ragnok interrupted, "you are not getting out of explaining your actions to him."

The ghost sighed, "I had hoped you had forgotten about that, well where should I start?"

"At the beginning, as you very well know, Myrddin."

"Well, we might as well get comfortable. Have a brandy, go to the bathroom, this story may take a while. "

Ragnok just stared at him, "Nice try, get on with it."

Merlin grimaced, "You know me too well for your own good, Ragnok," the goblin just grinned (or sneered, it's hard to tell the difference with a goblin), "Alright," Merlin looked over to Harry and Sirius, "take all you think you know about me, my powers, and what I have done, and forget them. Most of it is just lies made up by the Normans when they conquered." Harry heard the ghost mumble something that sounded like "Damn French under his breath.

"My father, Algris, was the King of Dumnonia, what you now call Cornwall. My father's first wife, Eudetha, died shortly after giving birth to my half-brother Galois. My father remarried a few years later to my mother Myrina, the local healer. When we were little, Galois, my twin sister Nimue, and I were taught our magic by my mother." The great wizard paused, eyes clouded with sorrow. He cleared his throat and continued, "On my brother's seventeenth birthday, he revealed his true nature. At the feast, he led a toast, 'To my friends and family, on this, the day I come into my inheritance. Without you, I would not be the man I am today.' With that we drank. Little did we know, but he had added Nightshade to the wine. I watched in horror as everyone in the hall fell, dying from the poison they had imbibed."

At this point, although tears were streaming down his cheeks, his eyes were hard, "I watched as my father died, screaming in pain, soon followed by my mother and my sister. I do not know why I did not die, maybe it was because my magic was too strong ... maybe it was because a servant made a mistake and brought me my regular grape juice instead of the wine ... It is not important. I knew if Galois found that I was alive, he would finish the deed.

"I feigned death. Carted away, with the bodies of my family pressing down on me, I was dumped in a mass grave. As I climbed out, through the bodies, I was spotted by a guard. He thought I was a ghost (or a draughr for that matter, we were near the barrows at the time), and ran. Although I wanted my revenge, I knew there was nothing a ten-year-old could do, so I came here, to Avalon. This is where my mother's family came from. When I arrived, I only found an old lone goblin. She told me that everyone had moved away or died. After hearing my story, Garmina took me in, cared for me, and taught me all the magic she knew. Three years later, she passed away. On her death bed, she told me she was a run-away slave, that she had left her husband and children to try to find someone who could help them. Although I was only thirteen, I promised I would find her family.

"I buried Garmina and eventually came to the court of Uther Pendragon, the High King of Britain. I studied under his wife, Igraine the Wise, who had started a school for sorcery. She soon chose me to be her Apprentice. One morning, I arrived at her chambers for tutoring, only to find that she had vanished. I informed Uther, and it was soon discovered that my half-brother had kidnapped her. Ashamed because of my family ties to that bastard, I offered my help to retrieve her. I led a group of soldiers to Tintagel, the Citadel my father had built. I helped them infiltrate the castle and confronted Galois. I killed him in a duel, and helped to free Igraine. He raped her. My fucking half-brother RAPED her!" Merlin got himself under control with a few deep breaths. "Igraine gave birth to Morgana nine months later. Uther brought the child into his household and raised her like his own. Arthur was only two at the time, so he did not know that Morgana was not his full sister until much later in life.

"Because Galois did not have any children other than Morgana, I was the next in line in the succession for the Kingship of Dumnonia. I was supposed to ascend to the throne. I didn't want to be king. I just wanted to travel and master my magic. I had failed to protect my parents, Nimue, Garmina, or Igraine. I wanted to become all-powerful so I could stop anyone else from hurting my loved ones. Uther knew how important this was to me, so on my eighteenth birthday, he allowed me to travel. Dumnonia was made a realm in Uther's kingdom, a duchy to be specific. A governor was put in place at Tintagel so I could assume my duchy upon my return. For twenty years, I journeyed all over the world, studying while trying to fulfil my promise to Garmina to find her family.

"After twenty years, I was called back to Britain by Uther. He was on his death bed. I had failed to protect another of my loved ones. Since Garmina's death, I had looked to Uther and Igraine as parents. I grew suspicious at Uther's rapid decline in health. After his father had passed, Arthur and I found that he was being poisoned by the banking clan that held sway over Britain's economy since the dissolution of the Roman Empire, the Quirrels." At the mention of the name Quirrel, Harry's eyes widened.

Apparently Merlin did not notice this because he went on,"Upon assault of the clan's headquarters, Arthur and I found that their prosperity was due to the enslavement of thousands of Goblins. Among them, I found Garmina's family. Uznul, Garmina's husband had since passed away, along with some of her children. Arthur and I enlisted one of her grandsons, a young goblin by the name of-"

Ragnok coughed loudly, obscuring Merlin's words.

Merlin continued with a slight smile, "The goblin's name was-"

Again, Ragnok interrupted the ghost with a hacking cough.

"Can I get you a cough drop Ragnok?"

"No, I think-" the goblin started.

"Thegoblinsnamewasragnok!" Merlin blurted out before Ragnok had the chance to interrupt him again.

"Sorry," Harry stated, "didn't quite catch that."

"I said," Merlin stated with a sly grin, "that the young, energetic upstart that helped us overthrow the Quirrels was none other than our own bureaucrat, Ragnok Gringott."

Griphook roared with laughter. "_So that's why you don't talk about your past, you don't want us to get any ideas! I can't wait to tell cousin Daggerflit!"_ Again, Griphook must have forgotten about Harry's ability to speak Gobbledegook.

"_This is neither the time, nor the place." _Ragnok said, pointing to Harry. Griphook paled and quickly shut up. Ragnok turned to the ghost, "Myrddin, old friend, you'll pay for this."

"And how, pray tell, will you take your revenge? I'm already dead, if you have forgotten." Sirius recognized Merlin's grin from the times Lily had thought she was above retaliation, just because she was James's wife. Needless to say she was usually wrong.

The old goblin didn't disappoint Sirius when he said, "Well, I could tell that story about that time you got drunk at Beltane..."

Merlin shivered, "So, where were we?" evidently that experience was still traumatic to the great wizard, even after his death, "ah, yes, the destruction of the Quirrels. After we had destroyed their clan (or so we thought), we returned to the Council of Kings so Arthur could participate in the election of the next High King. It was not a surprise that Arthur was elected to follow in his father's footsteps. After the election, I found that the Council (excluding Arthur) had become scared of me over the years. The destruction of the Quirrels was the last straw. They needed a way to subjugate me. They reinstated my title of Duke of Tintagel, but they redefined the title. I was no longer the ruler of Dumnonia. I was instead given authority over the magical population of Britain. I was forced to swear fealty to each member of the Council, making all rulers of Britain my liege lords. Arthur and I saw the danger in this. If the Council, in a majority vote, commanded me to action, one of the members of the minority could call me to his kingdom, and kill me before I was able to complete my task, and I had to obey because they were also one of my liege lords.

"As High King, Arthur helped me weasel my way to safety. He coerced the Council to grant me my own sovereignty, a full member of the Council. While I was still a vassal of each of the members of the Council, I still had my own vote. This way, I was only subjected to my fealty to a King if it pertained to matters concerning magical beings within the boundaries of their respective kingdom. The Realm of Avalon was established, consisting of this island, which at that time was off the western tip of Cornwall. At that time, it was just a barren island with a small tor at the western end, but it was my realm, the ancestral home of my mother.

"After I, as muggles say now-a-days, dodged a bullet concerning my fealty, the Council addressed the issue of the destruction of the Quirrel banking clan. The kings wanted to keep the structure of the goblin banking system that the Quirrels had developed, but they didn't want non-humans in charge of the isle's banking system. Arthur and I were the only ones who trusted the goblins, so we were unable to convince the Council to allow the goblins their freedom.

"Arthur and I couldn't let that happen," Ragnok cleared his throat and Merlin corrected himself, "ok, Ragnok was there too, but he did more harm than good." the ghost smirked at the mischievous look on his old friend's face. "We did some political manoeuvring. The council wanted the goblins in each kingdom to be enslaved to their respective kings. That way, each king could be responsible for the economic welfare of their realm. Arthur put his foot down. He explained to the council that that was impossible. First, the goblins were magical beings, so they fell directly under the authority of the Duke of Tintagel. Secondly, the economy was an issue that spanned the boarders of each individual kingdom. Thus, the new goblin banking system fell under the direct authority of the Duke of Tintagel as the Sovereign of the Realm of Avalon. There was no overlapping authority with each individual realm.

Merlin chuckled softly, "I still get a laugh when I think of the look on their faces as the rest of the council realized that they had tied their own noose when they had created the Realm of Avalon. So, when the Council was over, I took all the goblins to Emrys Isle. I signed a treaty with Snarltooth, the goblin leader saying that, while they would have freedom while they lived on Avalon, they would be considered slaves once they step foot anywhere else. I gave them free reign over their banking system while in Avalon. We devised a way for gateways to be set up all over Britain, so that, once they step through the gateway, they would be transported here, to Avalon."

The old ghost chuckled, "They still are used in fact, although almost no wizards know it." The ghost saw the familiar questioning look on Harry's face and explained, "Once you step through the doors to any goblin bank, you step through a gateway to a corresponding bank here on the island. They are enchanted to look like one is just stepping through a normal doorway, but in reality, they are being transported to Avalon. The interior of every goblin bank in the world is contained within the mountain under our feet. The goblins raised this mountain from the earth as more and more room was needed for their living quarters, banks, and vaults. If one had the passwords and magical signature (which you, Harry, will receive once you go through your inheritance ritual), you can travel from London, through Gringotts to Kûngrods Wizarding Bank and out into Shanghai in a little under fifteen minutes." Merlin chuckled at the shocked looks on the human's faces, "It is the second fastest known method of transportation in the world, only slower than ley line travel, which is deadly to humans nine times out of ten.

"Needless to say, Avalon is very important to the goblins, even if you discount the goblin banking empire that lies under our feet.. While the banks and vaults lie below ground level, the goblin city of Nar-Avlar lies in the area of the mountain that reaches above ground. Almost every goblin in the world resides in the city under our feet, and you, Harry, are their landlord. They plough your fields, tend your gardens, maintain the grounds of the Tor, and they do this in thanks for the semblance of freedom that our House has given them. Under the law set down by the High Council, I cannot free them. They are still slaves outside this isle. I petitioned the Council multiple times for their freedom, but they refused, and I couldn't ask any of the other monarchs after I had died because I had no rights. I had to wait until one of my descendents was powerful enough to trigger their status as my Heir. The goblins see you as their hope for freedom. Especially once you have the title of Duke of Tintagel magically bound to you."

Harry was dumbfounded. He couldn't truly process this all at once. His mind subconsciously just accepted this as fact so he wouldn't overload his brain and faint again. He decided to move on to another topic, a simpler topic.

"Ok, so I just have one question. How can I speak Gobbledegook?"

All four of his companions just stared at him, mouth hanging open. It was Merlin who found his voice first, "I just told you half of my life story and all you have to ask about is your penchant for languages? No 'Why was I the first person who had enough magic to become your heir if my mother was a witch?' no, 'If the goblins are only enslaved in Britain, why are there goblin banks all over the world?'You're not even going to ask about the goblin's whole 'Help me Harry Potter, you're our only hope!' mentality?" Apparently Merlin didn't notice Sirius's surprise at the Star Wars reference because he moved on. "All you bloody have to say is 'How can I speak Gobbledegook?'"

Harry shrugged, "I know I have a lot of questions, but if I think too much about it, I'm afraid it may overload my mind, and I think it would be unseemly if the Sovereign of Avalon faints twice in less than twenty-four hours."

There was a pause as the others in the group processed this response before they almost simultaneously burst into laughter, even, to Harry's surprise, Ragnok.

"Well put, my boy," Merlin apparently had gotten over his mirth enough to manage words, "I guess I would be in shock too if I had learned all that at once too. So... down to your penchant for languages. You are a Multilingus, Harry. You are able to understand any sentient speech after hearing it. After you hear enough, you are also able to speak it. The ability to speak and understand magical languages such as Parseltongue and Aviling are present from birth. Multilingui begin to expand their vocabulary with other languages such as Gobbledegook and, say, French when they begin to come into their magical inheritance.

"Where does it come from?" Harry wanted to know, "I know this explains my status as a Parselmouth, Voldemort must have spoken it when he came to kill my parents, but I have never heard of it until now. To my knowledge, neither of my parents had this gift."

"_That,_" Merlin said, in what Harry recognized as Spanish, "_is because it was a family trait of the House of Emrys bestowed upon the Head of the House. My mother did not have it because she was female (which is also why your mother did not have the trait), but I did since I was the first born male in the House's line. The fact that you can understand me now suggests that you have begun to come into your magical inheritance. This is also confirmed by the fact that you were not known to the goblins as the Duke of Tintagel until recently, as the notification of the status of Head of House only comes after the start of your magical inheritance. Tomorrow, if you are willing, we can complete the ritual that forces the completion of the magical inheritance, while also binding you to your familial and legal inheritances. It will hurt a lot if the current level of your power is any indication since your power practically doubles after the inheritance ritual is complete, but we will decide that tomorrow. Usually, the ritual is not needed. Wizards usually come into their magical inheritance naturally at seventeen. It is then that familial and legal inheritances normally take effect. But, if a wizard comes into their inheritance early, then the ritual is needed to force its completion. I had to have it. My magical inheritance started just after my sixteenth birthday. I expected my heir to have to have the ritual, but not at fourteen._" Merlin chuckled, "_You just keep surprising me._"

"_What does the ritual entail, sir? I've never heard of it before._" Harry asked in Spanish, deciding to follow his ancestor's lingual game of hopscotch.

"_Come now Harry,_" Merlin said, this time in Welsh, "_we are family. call me Myrddin, or, better yet, Myr. Arthur couldn't pronounce 'Myrrdin' when he was little, so he shortened it to Myr, and it stuck. I rather like the nickname. It reminds me of happy times. I've been trying to get Ragnok here to call me __Myr for the past one and a half millennia, but he refuses because of that damn goblin pride._" he switched to Greek, "_Well, the ritual separates your consciousness from your magical core. You then __enter into your core, and discover who you are (or who you are supposed to be at this point). Since you came into your inheritance early, your body will also grow uninhibited. From what I can tell, you appear to have been malnourished as a child,_" At this Sirius sent Harry a glance, telling him that the two would be having a nice long talk about his childhood when this meeting was over as well as the fact that he also had the translation charm active. Harry winced. He had forgotten that they were speaking in a foreign language and didn't comment on Sirius's understanding. Myr went on, "_so your body will grow to the size if you had been fed correctly, and had taken care of your body. Your body will grow to the size it should be when most people receive their magical inheritance, namely you will appear seventeen. Because of this growth, the Trace that monitors underage magic will break. The ministry doesn't let this fact become common knowledge because of the rarity of the ritual, about once every century, if that. I believe the last person who had this performed was your Headmaster, Albus Dumbledore. He had his performed when he was about sixteen and a half._"

"_So, are you saying that I will have more magical power at my disposal than Albus Way-Too-Many-Middle-Names Dumbledore?_" Harry questioned in Welsh.

"_Most likely,_" Myr continued in a language composed of a series of hissing and spitting, growls and screeches, "_usually the amount of power inversely dictates the time at which they come into their magical inheritance. For example, Albus Dumbledore had his at sixteen and a half, but someone with almost no magical ability may come into their magical inheritance at around eighteen. It is really quite interesting. By studying..._"

Myr was interrupted by a short, pain-laced yelp. Harry looked around frantically, looking for the source of the sound. He was surprised to find it came from his godfather.

Sirius was now on his feet, batting wildly at his ears, which had begun to smoke and spark wildly. After a few more swats, the abnormal output of Sirius's auditory flaps died out.

"What in the bloody hell was that language? My translation charms just went berserk. Usually, when I hear a language they don't understand, they just stop working. That one had so much magic packed into it, my charms just exploded. I don't know what happened ... it was just... just OWWW!"

"That, my friend," said the ghost, grinning, "was High Draconix."

Harry couldn't help himself, he chuckled softly at the astonished looks at the Sirius and the goblins (although, yet again, he did not know what Myr was talking about).

To Harry's surprise, it was Ragnok who spoke first, "B-but Myrddin... High Draconix is just a myth. It can't exist, can it?"

"Well, I have to admit," the ghost replied, "I am surprised with you, Ragnok. How do you think I can speak with Vashra and her pack?"

"I always thought you could... well... just because you were you." For the first time since Harry had met the goblin, Ragnok seemed at a loss for words.

"Can someone please tell me what High Draconix is?"

Sirius finally found his voice, "High Draconix is the one language that all sentient animals understand. If a person speaks to a sentient animal using High Draconix, the animal is stripped of any hostilities, seeing the person as a member of their species, a brother or sister, if you will. But, even if High Draconix was real, the last rumoured person that was fluent in it was... was..."

"Me?" Myr asked with a smile.

"Now that you mention it, yes." Harry's godfather said sheepishly.

"While what you said is true, I found two other uses of High Draconix. The language is extremely magical, but it is not just any magic, it is the magic that makes magical animals just that, magical. First, when used to cast a spell, it can replicate the magic of the animals themselves. You can replicate actual Dragon's Fire, the healing properties of Phoenix Tears, the destructive nature of Basilisk Venom, the effect of the Dementor's Aura. Second, when you transfigure something into a magical animal using High Draconix, the animal is created along with all its actual abilities. If you transfigure something into a Phoenix, the animal will be able to Apparate using its Flame, and its tears will have healing powers.

"Wow."

Myr chuckled, "Yes, Harry. That pretty much sums it up. Wow, indeed."

The pause that followed Harry's astute observation was finally broken by Ragnok. Looking at the clock on the wall, Ragnok spoke up, "I am sorry to say that I do believe we will have enough time to finish our business tonight. I am sure we will be able to finish our discussion tomorrow before we conduct the inheritance ritual. Since your Grace already accepted our offer to stay the night, I can send someone to your home to collect your things, and I am sure that we can have a guest room made up for Mr. Black if he wishes to stay."

"Well, I don't know if Sirius will want to leave Buckbeak alone in that clearing overnight," Harry turned to his ancestor, "is there a place to house a hippogriff in the Tor?"

"I am sure we can find something," Myr said with a grin. "Now, would you like to have supper now, or would you like to wait until your godfather returns with his hippogriff?"

Sirius cut in before Harry could say anything. "I don't want to keep you waiting. I know that Harry looks dead on his feet, and I don't want my godson falling asleep over dinner. I'll just grab a bite to eat when I get back," Sirius gave Harry a hug, "Goodnight Harry, you probably will be asleep when I get back."

"Goodnight, Padfoot." Harry murmured into Sirius's shoulder, "Say hi to Beaky for me."

Releasing Harry from his hug, Sirius followed the two goblins out of the room. Just before he reached the door, he turned to his godson, "Oh, and Harry, welcome home," and with a smile, he left.

"Come on Harry, you're dead on your feet. I'll have something to eat sent up for you. You just go to bed, your things will be here in a moments," with that Myr led his sleepy descendent to the Master Bedroom.

As Harry wound his way through the halls, following the ghost, something occurred to him, "Myr, when was this castle built, and who designed it?"

Myr turned to Harry, still floating his way down the halls, "Why do you ask?"

"Well, for one, you said that there was nothing except a small hut when you were here with Garmina, and this place must have taken well over a hundred years to build, and two," Harry pointed to a wall as they passed, "they didn't have clocks in the fifth century."

The old ghost chuckled, "Well, you're right. The last addition to the castle was made around eighteen fifty by goblin builders. As to who designed it, I did."

Supposedly Harry's surprise showed, despite his weariness. "What do you think I did in those fifteen hundred years? Sit around, waiting for you to show up? No, I travelled the world, learning what I didn't have time to while I was alive. Along the way, I became immensely interested in architecture. I drew up the plans with the help of a goblin artist, and the goblin building teams did the work. In the time between my trips, I came back and decorated the Tor. Everything you see is there by my design, the things that I liked from all the cultures I visited," he chuckled, "If you ever go out onto the terrace outside the third floor of the library, I went a little overboard with a pagoda and a koi pond, but, all in all, everything seems to fit without clashing."

Harry had to laugh, picturing himself stretched out in a lounge chair in the pagoda, doing his summer potions homework.

When they finally came to an intricately carved, solid oak door, Harry was ready to lay down on the stone floor and sleep. Myr turned to Harry, "This is another of the doors that require your command to open."

Harry sleepily thought 'open'.

'Alright dearie, off to bed you go. Get some rest, you're dead on your feet,' the Tor replied in a tone reminiscent of Molly Weasley.

Harry stumbled into his bedroom, not noticing anything but the presence of a large, comfortable-looking bed. He sat down and looked for Myr.

The ghost had already left, sensing Harry's exhaustion.

Harry was happy. He had a home in Tor Emrys. He had a family with Myr and Sirius. He was starting to realize his place in the world. He laid his head down on the pillow, feeling the cool silk under his cheek, waiting for his dinner to arrive.

He never did get a chance to eat. Within seconds of touching the soft pillow, Harrison James Potter, Duke of Tintagel, Sovereign of the magical Realm of Avalon, Baron Potter, was sleeping like a baby.

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	4. Holy Shit!

**The Elixir of Taliesin**

**Summary: Harry receives a letter from Gringotts revealing that he inherited a lot more than gold from his parents. He finds that he is the culmination of a plan that spans thousands of years to save the wizarding world. Harry obtains ancient knowledge from some of the greatest witches and wizards that have ever lived so that he may save the magic from becoming extinct… that is if the people inside his head would stop bickering long enough to let him think!**

**Disclaimer: Roses are red, violets are blue, I don't own Harry Potter, so please don't sue!**

**Many thanks to Teufel1987 for his awesome Beta reader skills!**

**A/N: I am sooooo sorry about the delay. My life has been really hectic these past few weeks. Trust me when I say that the next chapter will come out alot sooner.  
><strong>

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><p><strong>Chapter 4: Holy Shit!<br>**

Harry woke the next morning completely refreshed. He was half way to the door to start the Dursleys' breakfast before he realized where he was. He jumped at the startling fact that he was in _his_ own palace and looked around.

The master bedroom of Tor Emrys was immense. It was easily twice the size of the Gryffindor common room back at Hogwarts. Great windows lined three of the walls, alternating between great panoramic views of the island below which was no longer shrouded in the mist and rich tapestries embroidered with, what Harry assumed, the full heraldic crest of the House of Emrys (a gnarled black staff crossed with a black claymore, displayed on a copper field with an emerald border).

In the middle of the wall facing the door, stood the immense black ebony bed that he had just risen from. Like the rest of the room, it was decked in his House's colours. Emerald and copper bed-curtains were tied back at the four posts, revealing the black and copper sheets, the matching emerald quilt folded neatly at the foot of the bed.

The corner to the right of his bed stood a matching set of ebony wardrobes and dressers flanked an even larger silver mirror.

Harry rummaged through the cupboards, trying to find where the goblins had sent his clothing. He found all his clothes folded, pathetically taking up only half of one of the drawers, except for his three sets of robes (two sets of Hogwarts robes and the one set of emerald dress robes he had to purchase for the Yule Ball last year) which were hanging in a corner of one of the great wardrobes.

Harry sighed, 'If I am going to be the Sovereign of a magical Realm, I am going to need some new clothes.' He hated shopping and had avoided getting new clothes like the plague since playing Madame Malkin's pincushion during the summer before first year.

He grabbed a pair of too-large jeans, a tent-like hand-me-down shirt, underwear, and a pair of socks and looked around for a bathroom to take a shower.

* * *

><p>Harry was lost. He had been wandering the North Tower for the past ten minutes, and he still couldn't find where he was supposed to meet the others. While it had given him some time to think, he was still keeping people waiting.<p>

Upon exiting the shower, he had found a note taped to the inside of his bedroom door:

_Your Grace,_

_When you are ready, please meet Myrrdin, Mr. Black, Griphook, and myself in your Formal Office. We will continue our business that was interrupted last night. Because the length of the Inheritance Ritual is directly proportionate to your power, our Ritual Masters suspect that it will take up to half a day. That being said, I have taken the liberty to schedule the Ritual for after lunch. This is not binding and the Masters will gladly reschedule if this is not convenient._

_Awaiting your presence,_

_Ragnok Gringott_

'Sure, ask me to me to meet you in a location that I don't know how to get to! It's not like I can just ask the damn house where...' It hit Harry like a bolt of lightning.

'Um... Tor Emrys, can you help me find where my office is?'

'I was wondering when you would figure it out. I'll take you there, dearie. Not to worry.'

Suddenly, a door appeared in front of him out of nowhere. He looked around, confused. Apparently the Tor had just pulled him to a completely different part of the castle. From the austere lines and expensive marbles, he assumed that he now in the South Tower. 'That makes sense,' Harry thought, 'the note said my _Formal_ Office. That would suggest that it would be in an area open to the public.'

Harry opened the door.

His "Formal Office" could humble any self-important politician that had the misfortune of entering through the large ebony double doors ('I bet Fudge would even be taken down a peg or twelve'). Upon entering, a guest would be immediately treated to the majesty of the island below them, courtesy of the three large windows filling the wall opposite the door, surrounded by lace-like ebony cornices, rising to the ceiling two floors above them.

The rest of the walls of the almost circular room were covered in bookshelves, reaching to the vaulted ceiling above them. Unlike the Headmaster's office at Hogwarts, in which the shelves were filled with small objects and instruments, quietly puffing away, the Formal Office's shelves were filled with thick tomes, with an odd artefact or two put on display in the spaces left on the shelves. Harry quickly spotted some of the titles: _Economic Trends in Wizarding Britain: 1300-1450, Diversified Emrys Holdings: R-T, Goblin Banking Law. _These titles were not light reading.

Harry realized that this Formal Office was just that, a Formal Office in which to do business. This room was a tool to ensure the financial stability of his House. The Formal Office was meant to intimidate his enemies, impress his allies, and reassure his business partners. He shivered, hoping that he would not to have to use this Office much. He was only fourteen for Merlin's sake!

"Told ya, less than fifteen minutes... Pay up!" Sirius's voice jolted Harry out of his inspection of the financial citadel that was the Formal Office. Confused, he shot his godfather a questioning glance. Sirius shrugged, "Myrrdin here," his godfather lazily gestured in the direction of the ghost from his chair situated in front of the intricate wooden desk, "said that he'd bet that it would take you thirty minutes to find your way here. Ragnok bet an hour and I said it would take you less than fifteen minutes, and it only took you ten. You just won me two hundred Galleons, kid!" Sirius beamed at his godson.

Harry walked over to the desk, looking for a place to sit. To his surprise, the only chair that was vacant was the imposing leather wingback on the opposite side of the desk.

"You have got to be kidding me," Harry exclaimed, turning to his ancestor, who was floating in a seated position between Sirius's and Ragnok's chairs.

The ghost shook his head. "This is your Formal Office," Myrrdin said with a smirk, "that is where you should sit. Besides, we can't sit there because the chair is charmed to only let the Head of House sit in it."

Harry sighed. "I highly doubt that. Sirius probably told you about my hatred for finance, and you decided to all have a laugh at my expense." Giving in to the wishes of his ancestor, he seated himself in the austere chair.

Myrrdin laughed, "You know your godfather too well, Harry. Yes, he did mention something about it when he saw this Office, but I had already planned the seating arrangements this way. It just added something to look forward to. The chair is, however, charmed to only recognize the Head of House."

As soon as Harry's bottom touched the leather of the wingback chair, breakfast (along with place settings for three) appeared upon the desk, startling everyone (including, to Harry's surprise, Myrrdin).

Harry quickly recovered. "Thank you Tor Emrys, you preempted my next question," he said, helping himself to some toast and guava jam.

"No problem, dearie. I am here to make your life easier," the Tor said, speaking aloud for the first time.

Myrrdin was the next to recover. "Well snap my staff and call me Mr. Tuggy*," he exclaimed, "That's new!"

Harry was puzzled, "You didn't notice the voice in the back of your head when you were building this place?"

"I was waiting for you, dearie, to make my debut," the Tor explained, "I was created to help you run the Tor. I felt that I didn't _need _to talk to anyone other than my master."

The occupants of the room looked to Myrrdin for an explanation. "I thought the spells that transformed the ambient magic of a place into a sentient being had failed. I knew the Tor was built on a ley line, but I thought that I had made a mistake creating the spells. I never imagined that the Tor was _refusing_ to talk to me. Since I thought I failed, I just had a Mastery spell cast so the Tor would respond to your commands, even if it weren't sentient."

"Oh, no Myrrdin, I wasn't refusing to talk to you! You formulated the spell to respond to the Duke of Tintagel. You had already died, and the goblins who cast the spell didn't include past Dukes in the Formula of Mastery. I couldn't talk to you since I had no current master. I am sorry, Myrrdin. I truly am."

Myrrdin chuckled, "It's alright Lady Tor, I am just glad the spell worked. The Ritual of Sentience can only be performed once at a certain location, and I am just relieved I didn't screw it up."

Something occurred to Harry. "Myrrdin, what does the Ritual of Sentience entail and what is this Formula of Mastery? I've never heard of either."

"Ah... well... it's just an advanced magical ritual that gives the ambient magic of an area, usually a building, the ability for sentient thought and then binds the newly created sentience to a set Formula of Mastery, those whom the now sentient being serves."

Harry was intrigued. "Well, I kinda figured that from the name, but I am more interested in the Formula of Mastery. Lady Tor said she couldn't interact with anyone when someone from the Formula of Mastery was not present." He paused to pour himself a glass of orange juice, "I assume this was the Ritual that also gave Hogwarts sentience. If Hogwarts is bound to this same concept of this Formula of Mastery, how can she communicate with me?" Sirius and the two goblins looked startled at this revelation. Harry took more interest in Myrddin's lack of surprise. He continued, "She can't speak to me directly, but she has helped me over the years. I can feel her emotions; she has comforted me when I was sad, celebrated with me when I was happy," Harry smiled, lost in thought, "I have even suspected her helping me with my homework. When I am doing a particularly hard essay the exact book I require to finish magically appears on the desk in front of me." He chuckled, "I don't think I would have ever been able to do any of Snape's homework if it weren't for Hogwarts's help." Harry sobered, "Does this mean I am somehow contained within the Formula of Mastery for Hogwarts? Or is this just some other magical anomaly?"

Myrrdin looked pensive, "I have my theories Harry, but this is not for me to reveal. It will be up to Lady Hogwarts to tell you, or show you, when she is ready."

Harry sighed, 'I guess this is just one more of those questions I don't have the answers for.' He looked around, noticing that Ragnok, Griphook, nor Sirius had touched the breakfast that was laid out on the desk. "Please, join me. I would hate for this food to go to waste." Seemingly startled out of their shock at the sounding of Lady Tor's voice, the three nodded and helped themselves.

After everyone was settled with something to eat, Harry decided to start the meeting. "Well, I think we were discussing a plan to handle the theft from my vaults before we journeyed into Myr's life story and if High Draconix actually exists."

Ragnok cleared his throat. "Well, once Griphook and I returned to Gringotts after last night's meeting, we did some investigation," he pulled out some folded sheets of parchment from his vest pocket, "It seems that Mr. Dumbledore authorized monthly transfers from your Trust Vault into two separate accounts. The transfers were not deemed unusual because they were under the auspices of 'living expenses'. When we examined the accounts closely, we found that this was not the case. The first transfer was to a squib named Reuben Lestrange. He..."

"WHAT!" Sirius yelped, scrambling out of his chair. "Dumbledore stole Harry's money to give it to a _Lestrange_? I'm gonna kill him. I don't care if he is one of the most powerful men in the world. I'm gonna kill him." He started stalking towards the door.

"SIRIUS, SIT DOWN!" Harry commanded, allowing his power to fill each and every syllable. He didn't know how he did it; it came naturally, as if he was shaping his magic to do his will.

Sirius turned abruptly and sat back down, a blank look in his eye. He shook his head, as if trying to wake up. "How the hell did that just happen?" he asked calmly.

All the living inhabitants in the room turned to Myrrdin, waiting for an answer. The ghost just shrugged, "Don't look at me. I have no clue either. You're on your own with this one."  
>Harry buried his head in his hands. 'Just add another question to the list,' he thought. Looking back up at those around him, he sighed. "Let's just ignore the fact that I just accidentally put my godfather under the Imperius without an incantation or a wand and get back to business; we can deal with this later."<p>

Ragnok continued, "Ah ... yes, well... The monthly transfers of four hundred galleons were made to an account in the name of Reuben Lestrange with the Swiss branch of the United Goblin Banking Firm. Upon further investigation, we found that Mr. Lestrange is currently living in England under an alias as a Muggle." Ragnok hesitated, as if he didn't want to say the next bit of information, "He is now married and living under the alias of Vernon Dursley." Ragnok flinched, expecting another outburst, either from the man sitting next to Myrrdin or from the powerful being sitting across the desk. The goblin knew which one he feared the most.

While Sirius was sitting in shock, mouth opening and closing in resemblance of a suffocating fish. Harry appeared to keep his calm. His eyes, however, betrayed his rage.

"Are you telling me," Harry spoke with a soft, deadly voice, "that my dear Uncle Vernon, the bane of my existence for nigh ten years, is from a wizarding background and was being paid the equivalent of about twenty-five hundred pounds a month, while he forced me to work as his house elf?

Sirius found his voice, "What do you mean Harry, 'work as his house elf'? Dumbledore always told us that..." Harry could tell that something clicked in his godfather's mind. "Of course, _Dumbledore_ told us," Sirius spat out the Headmaster's name as if it were a vomit flavoured Bertie Botts Every Flavoured Bean, "What did that your uncle do to you Harry?"

Harry knew that he, again, had said too much, but he didn't care, his anger didn't care. He knew he would have to tell Sirius sometime and now was a good a time as ever.

He stood up, took off his shirt, and dropped his glamour.

* * *

><p>A collective gasp was heard around the room.<p>

Silence hung over the room. All four beings sitting across the desk just stared at the real Harry.

Harry had gone from looking small and slightly malnourished to gaunt and starved. Most of his torso was crisscrossed with old scars and burns. Every so often Sirius could identify the weapon from the shape of the scars (a boot heel, a belt, a clothes iron) but most of them were so densely packed, he could not tell where one scar ended and another began. What sickened Sirius the most was that carved deeply across the middle his godson's chest was the word 'FREAK'. Harry's voice jolted them out of their horror.

"From the time I could understand what clean meant, I was made to keep their house. If I missed a chore I was punished, which was every day, since Uncle Vernon seemed to come up with chores and forget to tell me." Harry's voice was detached, as if he was reading a different language, not knowing the meaning of the words. "Eventually, I learned to clean the entire house, not to wait for my relatives to order me to. Whenever they beat me, they aimed for parts of my body that could easily be covered up. I got used to the pain, but what hurt the most was the hunger. While I was not allowed to eat with them at the table, I was _allowed_ to eat the scraps out of the garbage. One time I decided to burn a small amount of food on purpose, just so I could eat that night, but Uncle Vernon caught me. My punishment was that I wasn't even allowed to scrounge in the trash for food for two weeks. I think I was five. After that, starvation was a regular punishment. I took to sneaking scraps from the neighbours' bins in the alley behind the house when Aunt Petunia was shopping with Dudley. I think Mrs. Figg saw me one time because, one day, she started throwing out fresh sandwiches in plastic bags. I knew she wouldn't tell; she hated Uncle Vernon too. Whenever he saw one of her cats in the street, he always swerved to hit them." He knew he was rambling, but he didn't care. It finally felt good to talk about what he had gone through.

Harry revealed his past with disinterest. He had already confronted his problems mentally, and they couldn't hurt him any more. After the night Sirius escaped, Harry searched his soul and put his past behind him. It happened, yes, but now he had family that cared for him. What was physical pain in the long run when he had an actual home with Sirius to look forward too?

"H-Harry, how... how did you..." Sirius had tears in his eyes, which were locked on Harry's face, choking on his words.

"How did I hide this?" Harry gestured at his wounds. Sirius nodded. "I used a glamour charm. When Hagrid brought me to Diagon alley for the first time, I looked for a book to hide my injuries. I didn't want people gawking at me any more than necessary. I had just found out I was famous for a scar on my forehead. I didn't want anything else that could allow people to single me out in a crowd. I discovered a book on glamour charms, and bought it when Hagrid's back was turned. I read it every day. Practicing constantly while I was locked in that prison they call my room. By the time I went to Hogwarts, I had perfected the look you see today. I was surprised when the charms fooled the start-of-school check up with Madame Pomfrey, but apparently I did it correctly. I didn't want attention and I knew my scars were going to stand out like a sore thumb."

Once again, Sirius managed to speak, which was a feat since he was shaking in anger. "H-How? How can you be so calm? How are you still sane? H-How ... How did you survive?"

Harry sighed, "Whenever I was punished, I retreated into my mind, or my magic, I don't know exactly which, but when I came back to reality, I had my injuries and I went on with my chores. I came to terms with it a long time ago. I know my magic had saved me, although now I think most of my nerve endings are numb. I can't really feel anything under the scar tissue. After I found out I was a wizard, well, I had my magic and that was enough for me to live for. It was something he could never take away from me."

Ragnok found his voice, "They will pay." He made it sound like a simple statement, but in truth, Harry knew that it carried the wrath of the entire goblin race. "The whole family will pay."

There was a slight pause in which Harry pulled his shirt back on and returned his glamour charms to full force. Harry turned to Ragnok, who was still fuming over his revelation. "I think we can easily remedy this situation." This snapped Ragnok out of his rage-induced stupor. "Since the account is in a goblin bank and since they will be under my authority as Sovereign of the magical Realm of Avalon..." Harry gave an inquisitive look at the goblin, "They are under my authority, aren't they?" Ragnok nodded, "I can just drain the account. After my inheritance ritual, I will go to the Dursleys, or should I say the Lestranges, with a contingent of goblins to confront them. Then, the goblins can arrest him and charge him with the theft. I don't want Dumbledore to know that I am aware of his deception. What is the saying? 'Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer'? This way he won't pull away and I can monitor his manipulations more closely. We can say that Lestrange forged Dumbledore's signature."

Ragnok grinned, "Your Grace that is revenge worthy of a goblin. Theft is considered the foulest of crimes in the goblin world. He could receive no greater amount of punishment. The amount he stole adds up to over one hundred and thirty years in the mines."

A smile brightened Harry's face, "Well, at least I won't have to deal with my uncle any more." Harry had to lighten the mood, or he would start to get depressed. "Now, what was the other account that Dumbledore was siphoning funds into?"

"Wait a second, Harry." Sirius interrupted, "What about your aunt and cousin? They didn't lift a finger to help you. Your cousin was the one to give you some of those scars. They both should be punished too."

Harry sighed. "I realize that, but I do not want anyone to know about what they did to me. I will _not_ be paraded in front of the wizengamot during a trial. The goblins won't be able to do anything to them because we have no proof that they were involved in the theft."

"Ah, but you are wrong, sir," Ragnok corrected. "When a theft is committed in goblin jurisdiction, the victim immediately falls under the protection of the Goblin Nation

from the time of the theft to the carrying out of the thief's sentence. Therefore, from the time he started stealing from you, anyone who committed a crime against you is subject to goblin justice. Your Aunt and Cousin will be charged as if they had abused a goblin. Needless to say, they be in the mines for a long, long time."

"Well," said Harry, "that fixes that problem! Now, who was the other person that was stealing from me?"

Griphook shook himself out of his shock-induced stupor and finally plucked up the courage to speak, "Um, I-I found that, on the first of November, the day after He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named attacked your house in Godric's Hollow, Mr. Dumbledore came to Gringotts and set up a Fluctuating Transfer Agreement from your Trust Vault to an account with a Muggle bank in Switzerland. Because it is outside the wizarding world, we were not able to find much information pertaining to this account, but we did find the name of the firm that runs it. The account is run by the American investment firm, Fawkes Inc. I did, however-"

The goblin was cut off by Sirius's snarl, "That bastard!"

"Sirius, there are an awful lot of bastards in the world, you need to be more specific," Myrrdin said with an amused chuckle.

"Dumbledore!" Sirius exclaimed, "Fawkes Inc. is a hoax. It's the slush fund for the Order of the Phoenix."  
>At this, Ragnok's eyes went wide. It was Harry, however, who spoke up, "What's the Order of the Phoenix?"<p>

His godfather sighed. "The Order of the Phoenix was a secret organization that was founded by Dumbledore during Voldemort's first reign of terror. It operated covertly, gathering intelligence and making precise strikes against the Death Eaters and Voldemort's source of income, the crime syndicate named Shadow's Hand. After Lily's sacrifice defeated Voldemort, Dumbledore dissolved the Order. He stated that he had closed the funds available in Fawkes Inc. and distributed them to the war victims. He told us-"

This time it was Griphook who interrupted Sirius, "Yes, sir. He _told_ you, but it seems that a disjunction between what Mr. Dumbledore says and what he does has come to light as of late. As I was saying," the young goblin shot a dirty look at the man, "I did do some digging into the accounts under Fawkes Inc. While not entirely legal in the Muggle world, I hacked (both Ragnok and Sirius looked at each other in confusion at the word "hacked" while Myrrdin's and Harry's interests were peaked as to why a goblin knew his way around a computer) into the bank's mainframe and received the transfer data that led me back to a wizarding Vault. From there I found that, after the fall of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, Mr. Dumbledore consolidated all the accounts into his own personal Vault. Yes, after the war, he did donate some of the money to victims, but, in total, it only amounted to about a third of the assets of Fawkes Inc. This is not including the additions to the Headmaster's Vault that were taken from his grace's Trust Vault."

"I can't believe the nerve of that man." Sirius had calmed slightly, but he still looked pissed. "Two days after Voldemort returned, Dumbledore recalled the Order. In the letter he sent out to anyone he thought would fight for him, he asked for contributions to Fawkes Inc., so it would not be as strapped for cash, like the last war. As the Lord Black, I donated one of the family mansions in London to use as the Order's headquarters. I was actually on my way back to England to join up with the Order when I received your owl, Harry. I think they are expecting me in a few days," the Animagus sighed. "While I don't trust Dumbledore, I still feel the Order does good."

"Ok," Harry wanted this meeting to end so he could just take a few days and process information. He had only been up for an hour, and yet he was already counting the minutes until the ritual, just so he could get out of this meeting. "Sirius, I trust you, and if you trust the Order, I trust the Order. I will not punish Dumbledore now because it would most likely plant doubt among those who are working together to rid the world of Voldemort's evil." Harry held up a hand to stop one of the goblins from interrupting him. "That is not to say I will forget this. After we win this war, I will allow you to press charges, but not until then. We need unity to stop Voldemort." Harry glanced at Myrrdin. The ghost's eyes were, again, filled with a gleam of pride. "Now, what's next on the agenda?"

Ragnok was momentarily flustered from the abrupt change of subject, but quickly recovered. "Well, we only have to go over what you will be inheriting once the ritual is complete, and then answer any questions you may have."

"Well then, let's get started." Harry was eager to get this over with. He still had questions that had yet to be answered.

Ragnok bent down and picked up a leather satchel that had been sitting on the floor next to him, unnoticed, until now. After a few moments, he pulled out a thin, bound book. Passing the book to Harry, he explained, "This is your Vault Book. It is spelled so that only the owner of the Vault, or those you authorize, may open it. Within its pages is a detailed accounting of all of one's vaults and the properties attached to them. The first page is an overview of your vaults and properties, let's start there."

Harry picked up the book. Upon touching his skin, the blank leather on the cover emitted a flash of bright light. When Harry's vision had cleared, the cover was now inscribed with his name, _Harrison James Potter_. He was actually relieved that it did not include all of his titles.

Upon opening the book, Harry found the summary page and looked it over:

_Harrison James Potter_

_Duke of Tintagel_

_Sovereign of the magical Realm of Avalon_

_Baron Potter_

_Head of the Ancient and Most Noble Houses of Emrys, Potter and Maro._

_Patriarch of the Peverell Family_

_**Trust Vault 687**_

_49,473 Galleons, 14 Sickles, 24 Knuts_

_**House Potter Vault 347**_

_5,004,894 Galleons, 7 Sickles, 2 Knuts_

_Non-Heirloom assets: 3,903,745 Galleons_

_Potter Castle, Isle of Wright_

_14 Lion's Rd., Godric's Hollow_

_**Peverell Family Vault 519**_

_1 Knut_

_Chateaux Peverell and adjoining Peverell Vineyards, Champagne, France_

_**House Maro Vault 7**_

_17,943,655 Galleons, 12 Sickles, 18 Knuts_

_Non-Heirloom assets: 23,389,054 Galleons_

_Villa Virgilia, Capri, Italy_

_I Vigneti di Maro, Orvieto, Italy_

_**House Emrys Vaults E1-E75**_

_82,652,479,153 Galleons, 16 Sickles, 9 Knuts_

_Non-Heirloom assets 503,964,701 Galleons_

_Tintagel Castle (ruins) and Vaults (contents unknown), Tintagel, Cornwall_

_Avalon_

_Monetary Asset Summary_

_82,675,477,177 Galleons, 16 Sickles, 1 Knut_

_Non-Heirloom assets 510,207,400 Galleons_

Upon seeing the Emrys Vault summary, the only thing Harry could think of were two words, 'Holy Shit!'

* * *

><p>"Ow!" Harry was jolted back to the present by something small and hard hitting him in the eye. He looked up, rubbing his eye, trying to get it to stop watering. While the goblins looked bored, Myrrdin was (once again) laughing his transparent arse off. Harry spied his godfather trying to look innocent. He immediately knew who was to blame.<p>

Sirius finally cracked under Harry's glare and chuckled. "Sorry, pup, but you've been sitting there, staring at that book for the past half hour. Hell, I've been throwing bits of toast at you for the last five minutes and you still didn't respond until one hit you in the eye." Harry looked down and, sure enough, there were bits of toast littering his clothes and the desk in front of him.

Harry handed the book to Sirius, "You would be shocked too if you saw this."

The man started reading, a smug look on his face. It quickly disappeared when he reached the House Emrys summary. All the Animagus could say was, "Holy shit!"

Harry laughed, "That's exactly what I thought. But, I have to ask, who are the Peverells and the Maros?"

Like many of the other explanations, Myrrdin fielded this one. "The Peverells and the Maros are the Potters, Harry. Your House was founded by Publius Virgilius Maro, the Magus Maximus for Julius Caesar and Emperor Augustus in addition to his literary career. After the death of Augustus, he travelled the world and eventually settled with his family in Britannia. Over the years, the Maro family were very important. Marsans Maro was Arthur's chamberlain for a number of years and a close personal friend. Over the years, there were a few bad apples. Eventually, Ceowulf Maro rose to power as a Dark Lord and a Necromancer. When he was defeated, the Head of House and Ceowulf's older brother, Uhtred Maro, and his family fled to France, in shame. The Council of Kings, seeing the flight of Uhtred as an attempt to escape punishment, banished the House of Maro from the Britain.

"The Maro family took the name Peverell, after the name of the ship that brought them to safety in France. After a few generations, most of the Peverells decided to return back to their homeland. It wasn't until the thirteenth century that the House of Potter came into being. Walter de Peverell convinced King John's son, King Henry III, to reinstate the Magna Carta (there may or may not have been an _Imperio _involved). In return, the nobles forced the King to grant a Barony to Walter. Upon receiving the title, he changed his name to Potter to honour his ancestor, Virgil. He chose the name 'Potter', not from the profession that makes clay jars, but rather from the moniker Virgil acquired during his travels, 'Poter', 'the Powerful'. Unfortunately, Walter couldn't spell very well, so 'Poter' became 'Potter', and it stuck."

Harry was surprised to hear that the author of the Aeneid was his ancestor, but then again, it was just another thing to add to the 'Holy Shit!' list that had been accumulating in his head of amazing things.

"Ok, two more questions. One: Why does the Maro Vault have so much in it when the Peverell Vault only contains a Knut? And two: Why the hell is there so much loose cash in the Emrys Vaults?... not that I'm complaining."

"I can answer that, your Grace," Ragnok said, "First, the House of Maro was banished from Britain, so their assets were frozen. Now, since you control the banking system, you can get around that banishment. The Peverell Family Vault only has a Knut in it because the rest was transferred into the House Potter Vault when Walter de Peverell became the Baron Potter. I am guessing that they left a Knut in the Vault to leave it open. If I am not mistaken, some of the Peverells were Artificers and much of their work and tools are still resting in the Vault. To answer the second question, you must understand, you _own_ the United Goblin Banking Firm. A miniscule percentage (0.001% I believe) of every fee we collect from our banking ventures goes directly into your vault. The amount is incredibly large because it has had close to fifteen hundred years to accumulate and earn interest."

"I-I...I _own_ the Firm? The _entire_ Firm?"

"Yes, your Grace, you do," Ragnok said calmly, enjoying the look of shock on the young Duke's face.

Harry looked to his godfather, interested in his reaction. To his surprise, Sirius was still looking at the Vault Book, still muttering "Holy Shit!" under his breath.

* * *

><p>After an hour and a half of hashing out financial details, they finished. They were on their way to a solarium for lunch when Harry remembered the list of questions he had made when he had first received Griphook's letter. Yes, many of the questions had already been answered, but he wanted to make sure.<p>

"If you could excuse me for a moment," he said politely. 'Lady Tor, could you take me back to my bedroom? I need to get something out of my trunk.'

'Right away, dearie!' the Tor answered immediately, pulling him to his bedroom door, much to his companion's surprise when he just disappeared.

Harry quickly made his way across his bedroom ('It's still hard to believe all this is mine... or at least will be after the ritual today.') to his trunk, which was situated on a low table at the foot of his bed. Rummaging around, he found the notebook that contained his questions thanking God for thorough goblins (he was quite sure he had hidden the book under the loose floorboard under his bed). 'Ok Lady Tor, I found it. Would it be too much trouble to ask if you could take me back?'

'It's no problem, Harry. It is fun to actually be able to interact with people after all these years,' and suddenly, he was back, standing in front of the four entities whose mouths were still hanging open.

Harry laughed, "Let's go see to that lunch, I'm starved.'

Lunch was a delightful affair. Very little business was discussed, and for that, Harry was happy. They spent the meal sitting in soft overstuffed armchairs, looking out at the beautiful landscape of Avalon Isle. One item of business they did converse about was the Isle itself. Harry was surprised to find that there were (and still are) quite a few goblin naturalists. They had spent the last one and a half millennia searching the world for rare or endangered plants and animals. Trying to save the species from becoming extinct, they cultivated small areas of the isle as preserves for these life forms. Many species, such as the thunderbird and the dragon turtle, thrived on this Isle while extinct in the outside world.

While Ragnok and Sirius were discussing the possibility of allowing naturalists from the wizarding world to visit the island to study the creatures, Harry remembered his list of questions.

"Um, Myr?"

The ghost turned to his descendent with an amused look, "You have more questions, don't you?"

"How did you... Never mind. Yes. I have some more questions if that would be ok."

"Ask away, Harry."

He looked down at the list of questions in his notebook. Many of the questions could be answered with a simple 'Because Dumbledore is a bastard' so he just moved on. After crossing out the Dumbledore-related questions, he found only one left unanswered. "Um, never mind, I guess I only have one. How could I be an Heir to a magical House through my mother if she was Muggle-born?"

The ancient wizard sighed. "You have to understand, Harry, almost everyone has a wizarding ancestor. In squibs, the magical gene lies dormant. In Muggle-borns, the person expresses the magical gene that had lain dormant for generations, in that amount of time it is natural for the family to forget that one of their ancestors were of a magical lineage. Your mother was of direct decent of the firstborn of my firstborn, Gwyddfid. In that line, your mother was the first magical being since me. Unfortunately, she was female and the ancient magic that the Council of Kings used to bind our house together with the goblins when they were put into my care did not allow for a female Head of House. Then you came along, and the magic that had been building up for so many years finally expressed itself in you. This is probably why you're so powerful, although this is only my opinion and in no way definite."

"So the whole 'pureblood' thing _is_ just a load of shit," he thought aloud. Then he blanched at having just realized he had said 'load of shit' in front of one of the most notable people in magical British history.

The ghost chuckled, "Yes, and it was proven quite a long time ago. I rememb-"

The ghost was cut off by Lady Tor. "Excuse me for interrupting, but there is a goblin at the gate saying he has an urgent message for Mr. Ragnok."

The elderly goblin turned to Harry and raised an eyebrow. Harry nodded and said, "Its fine, Lady Tor, you can bring him right up."

"Right away."

There was a faint pop and the disorientated goblin appeared in the centre of the room. The poor creature looked around frantically, trying to gain his bearings. His eyes landed upon Sirius, not seeming to see Harry. The nervous goblin walked over to Sirius and knelt. "I-I am s-sorry, your Grace, f-for the interruption, but I was t-told that the message was urgent."

Sirius looked extremely confused. He looked over to Harry to try to find some help, but it was the best his godson could do to stop from laughing.

Ragnok caught the messenger's attention by clearing his throat. The kneeling goblin's head snapped towards his leader. Ragnok gave a small shake of his head, and pointed a long finger at Harry.

The messenger took a moment to decipher his leader's meaning. As recognition dawned on him, the goblin's eyes widened and he went white. The poor goblin started to splutter, "But... I... But he's... He's so..."

Harry actually had to bite on his knuckle to stop himself from laughing. Griphook just sat in his chair, long-fingered hand covering his face. Sirius was still confused.

Ragnok rolled his eyes, got up, and snatched the letter away from the still spluttering goblin. "Lady Tor, could you please escort my young colleague out. I am afraid he may not be able to do it himself."

"Your Grace?" Lady Tor Harry realized that she needed his authorization. He nodded an affirmation of his Ragnok's request, "Right away, Mr. Ragnok," and suddenly, the messenger goblin was gone.

Looking down at the letter, Ragnok sighed, "I am sorry, your Grace, but it turns out that we will not be able to complete the ritual today. It appears that our Arithmancers miscalculated the amount of time it would take to complete the ritual. It has been rescheduled for tomorrow morning."

Myrrdin brightened, "Perfect! That gives us time to visit Vashra! I want to give Harry a chance to meet her. It gets lonely with only her cub and I to talk to."

Griphook went white; Ragnok's left eye started to twitch.

"Who's Vashra?" Harry asked.

* * *

><p>* I will give an Honourable mention to anyone who can tell me what TV show "call me Mr. Tuggy!" is from. Hint: the actual quote is "My friends all call me Mr. Tuggy!"<p> 


	5. Friends, Family, and Familiars

**The Elixir of Taliesin**

**Summary: Harry receives a letter from Gringotts revealing that he inherited a lot more than gold from his parents. He finds that he is the culmination of a plan that spans thousands of years to save the wizarding world. Harry obtains ancient knowledge from some of the greatest witches and wizards that have ever lived so that he may save the magic from becoming extinct… that is if the people inside his head would stop bickering long enough to let him think!**

**Disclaimer: Roses are red, violets are blue, I don't own Harry Potter, so please don't sue!**

**Many thanks to Teufel1987 for his awesome Beta reader skills!**

**A/N: I am really sorry for the long update period. My computer decided to do an impression of the Human Torch when lightning struck my house and the surge protector failed. After that, I got so frustrated with trying to rewrite the story that I just put it aside to write out a few story line ideas I have had for a while. That is why I started the three crossovers on my profile. So, after a long wait, Chapter 5 is here. **

**A/N: For anyone who has read my crossovers, I have put up a challenge on my profile page. If you follow the rules, almost any crossover is fair game. I look forward to seening your intrepretations. **

**On to the story!**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 5: Friends, Family, and Familiars<strong>

They had been walking for a while, winding their way through the tunnels of Nar-Avlar. Every time they passed a goblin, he (or she, it's hard to tell with goblins) bowed low, nose almost touching the ground. They didn't right themselves until the five had passed out of sight.

Finally, after half an hour, they arrived at a marble pentangle imbedded into the floor. Motioning for the others to join him, Ragnok stepped onto the large design. "This is a linking port. These are placed in each goblin bank, in addition to strategic points around Nar-Avlar. The interior of each bank is completely isolated, so the only way into or out of one of the banks are either through the front door, or through the linking port. This is done to ensure the safety of the Vaults.

"While I cannot demand an oath of secrecy from you, your grace, because you are our master, or you, Mr. Black, because you're the Duke's guest, I must ask you for your silence. This is one of the crowning achievements of goblin magic. A version of this spell is inlaid into the magical doorways of each bank and the magical entrance to Tor Emrys. While only a being with goblin magic may activate the port, we can't be too careful."

"If only a goblin can activate the spell, how did I activate the gateway to Tor Emrys?" Harry asked.

"It is not just a goblin who can activate the spell, but those with goblin magic," Myrrdin explained, "Because we became the masters of the goblins, the magic of House Emrys was merged with that of the goblins. You have goblin magic, it is just hard to control. Now that I think about it, members of House Emrys are not the only people with goblin magic. There are a few cases of goblin/human unions resulting in children over the years. I believe that your Charms professor, Filius Flitwick, is the only part goblin that actually has control over his goblin magic."

Harry chuckled, "Yeah, I would bet Professor Flitwick would give his his left n-" Harry glanced at Myrrdin and quickly changed what he was going to say, "er, foot to have a look at this spell." He turned to Ragnok, "You have my promise of secrecy,"

There was a pause. "Mine too," Sirius added lamely when he realized that they were waiting on him.

Ragnok nodded, "Right. Your Grace, to activate the spell, you just say the activation phrase and then say the city of your destination, or, if within Nar-Avlar, say the district name. Here we go. _Goblin's Pride: Cairo_!"

* * *

><p>The group reappeared in a small stone room, barely large enough to hold the marble pentangle in the floor. Ragnok lead them through the plain wooden door into the hallway beyond.<p>

It surprised Harry how many non-goblins worked in the Cairo bank. Ragnok explained as they passed numerous offices that this was due to the need for the curse-breaking industry here in Egypt. Because goblins were forbidden to carry wands, wizards and witches were needed to break the wards that protected the ancient tombs and to dispel any nasty curse placed upon the artifacts within to deter tomb robbers.

They were passing what looked like a make-shift break room when a voice rang out through the air.

"'Arry!" Harry turned to see who could possibly have recognized him, here, in Cairo, when a body collided into him, tell-tale silvery blond hair obscuring his vision.

"Urgh. Well... Hi, Fleur! What are you doing here?" After Harry had saved her sister last year during the Second Task, Fleur had opened up to Harry and they had become friends. Once he had gotten used to the Veela aura and she had dropped the emotionless mask she wore in public (she was very Slytherin in that regard), she turned out to be very nice. They had kept in touch after she had left at the end of the year. Harry suspected she sent letters so regularly to keep him from spiraling into depression after Cedric's death. It was nice to have someone to talk to during the summer that didn't call him 'freak' or 'boy'. "You had said you had applied, but I distinctly remember you saying "Eet was a long sot!" Harry said, imitating the French teen's accent. He knew she hated when he did that, but he wanted to try and steer Fleur away from the question, 'What was Harry Potter, an Englishman, who was supposedly confined to his room at his Muggle relative's house, doing in Cairo?'

"Ohh, zis is my first day! I was going to write to you tonight." She started leading him into the break room, seemingly oblivious to the man, ghost, and two goblins he was standing with. "I wanted to be stationed at Gringotts to improve my Eenglish, but I found out zat all ze goblins speak ze language because zeir banking empire started in London." She stopped at an almost empty table, pushing Harry into a vacant seat. Harry could see very little of the other person at the table. They had a large tome propped up in front of them, apparently engrossed with his work ('Or trying to take a cat-nap unnoticed,' he thought, remembering pulling the same maneuver during study periods). "Look 'oo I found!" Fleur called in a sing-song tone, trying to get the other person's attention.

Harry wondered who else could possibly recognize him here in Cairo. He was in Egypt for Merlin's... The identity of the person sitting across from him struck him like a bolt of lightning. "Fuck!" Harry muttered under his breath.

The wizard lowered his book.

"Harry! What the bloody hell are you doing here?" Bill Weasley exclaimed, a look of total shock coming over him.

Harry chuckled, "Now Bill, what would your mother say about your language, especially with a lady present?"

Bill smiled, "Damn, Harry! I've heard things ten times as bad come out of Fleur's mouth." Harry shot the woman a surprised look. She had the audacity to sit there, looking innocent. "But don't change the subject. What are you doing here?"

"Um... Well, you see... I-"

"Why don't we have this discussion somewhere more private, shall we?" They jumped as the voice drifted over Harry's shoulder. Apparently, Ragnonk had followed Harry and Fleur into the break room unnoticed.

Bill looked confused as to the identity of the goblin until the wizard noticed the crest that was embroidered over the goblin's heart: a pair of golden scales set over the letter G. Once he recognized who this goblin had to be, Bill went white. "Um... Yes, sir, Mr. Gringott...sir."

As the trio at the table got up, Fleur looked over at the red-head in confusion. Bill leaned over and whispered something in her ear. Once he was finished, Fleur had turned a slight shade of green.

Ragnok gave a bark of a laugh, "And I have excellent hearing in my old age. Besides... only half those rumors are true."

At this, Bill got whiter and Fleur got greener.

It was Harry's turn to laugh. "Stop scaring them, Ragnok! If I know Molly, I doubt any act towards her son would go unpunished. I don't think even _you_ would be safe from a mother Weasley's wrath, even in Nar-Avlar."

Ragnok shivered, "Ok, ok, I guess you're right. I've heard of the Weasley matron. She isn't one to cross."

Bill couldn't believe this. Harry, whom his family would have adopted had Dumbledore allowed them, was _teasing_ the most feared goblin in the world, who just happened to be his boss's boss.

* * *

><p>Ragnok had quickly led them to the Branch Manager's office. Without knocking, Ragnok threw open the door, revealing a surprised goblin sitting behind a large stone desk, and ushered Harry inside. When Bill and Fleur (they had left Sirius and Griphook in the break room, while Myrrdin went on to meet Vashra and "fill her in on any new gossip") made to follow, Ragnok stopped them. "Give us a minute, we will call you when we are ready," and promptly shut the door in their faces.<p>

Harry gave his goblin friend a half-smile, "Now, now, Ragnok, that wasn't very nice," he said, only slightly serious.

The old goblin's face lit up in a grin (or a grimace; again, with goblins, it's hard to tell), "I do love playing with the humans' fear."

The Branch Manager cleared his throat from behind his desk, grabbing the two's attention. "What are you doing here, _brother_," he spat the word out venomously, "and what is this _human_ doing here? You know their kind is not allowed here lest they work for the bank... and I've never seen this whelp before."

Ragnok's eyes flickered with emotions: rage, smug assurance, exasperation. All were fluttering behind the goblin's mask of calm. "Well, you are somewhat right, that applies to everyone except the Duke of Tintagel and his family."

"Well, that old fool Emrys isn't here, is he, and he doesn't have any magical family, never has. If you are suggesting that this boy is a muggle relation to that old ghost, it won't matter that you were Emrys's favorite, no non-magical being is allowed past the atrium... or has that tidbit slipped from your pea -sized brain?" Ragnok's brother's eyes lit up with evil glee. " Ooh, this will be the last straw, Ragnok! I will get you ousted from your high and mighty throne for this."

Harry sank into one of the leather chairs facing the desk. "Well! First you insult me, then you insult my ancestor, and to top it all off, you go and insult one of my new friends. I have to say, you aren't making a very good impression, are you?"

Ragnok smirked, "Grimpstock, let me present Harrison James Potter-Emrys, Duke of Tintagel, Sovereign of the magical Realm of Avalon, Baron Potter, Head of the Ancient and Most Noble Houses of Emrys, Potter, and Maro, Patriarch of the Honorable Family of Peverel, Triwizard Champion.

Harry glanced up at Ragnook, "You just like adding titles, don't you?"

"Well, your Grace, there is your legal title, and your formal wizarding title. While your legal title only includes your titles and first name, your formal wizarding title also includes your inter-familial titles, such as Head of House and Partriarch, and your personal accomplishments, like World Deuling Champion and Triwizard Champion. I used your formal title because, knowing Grimpstock, he would need a little extra shock to get it through his thick head."

At the mention of Ragnok's brother, they both looked back at Grimpstock Gringott. The goblin had paled significantly and did not seem to notice that he was gouging cratches into the polished stone of the desk with his fingernails.

"I'm sorry Grimp, but we need to use this office." When Ragnok saw that his brother was not moving, the elderly goblin went behind the desk, picked his brother up by the scruff of his neck, opened the door and threw his brother bodily into the hallway. When he saw the astonished faces of Bill and Fleur, Ragnok politely stated, "I am sorry for the delay. It will be another minute or two."

Shutting the door, he turned back to Harry. Seeing that he was hadn't moved from his seat in front of the desk, Ragnok frowned, pointing at the ornate chair behind the desk. "You do _own_ this bank." Grumbling, Harry moved. "Now, what are you going to tell them?"

"I am going to tell them the truth." Ragnok started to argue, but Harry stopped him with a raised hand, "These are my friends, Ragnok. I will not obliviate them for seeing something they shouldn't. I had planned to tell them eventually, but knowing my friends, a few of them will find out sooner than I plan. I know the bank gave Bill that dragon's tooth earring as a charm to prevent mind magics and truth serums to protect your secrets. We could get Fleur one (but I think she would rather have hers designed as a pendant) and say it came with the job."

Something occurred to Harry. "Ragnok, don't I have some sealed Vaults at Tintagel that need to be opened?"

"What do... Ah." Ragnok grinned slighly, "Why, yes, I believe you do."

"And how good is Mr. Weasley at his job?"

"I'd have to say that he is one of the best. In a few more years, I expect him to be the head of the curse-breaking department."

"Well, I think we just found Mr. Weasley and Ms. Delacour a new assignment." Ragnok looked confused at the mention of Fleur, "Well, every curse-breaker could use an assistant and researcher. " The goblin shrugged. "Let's call them in and tell them."

* * *

><p>Bill Weasley did not startle easily. He had faced ancient curses known to strip flesh from bones in tombs in the Valley of the Kings, held off lethifolds in Angor Wok, almost died from a manticore sting on Crete, and was nearly run over by a moped in Rome. While these did not faze him, he was shocked at the treachery of the grandfatherly Albus Dumbledore.<p>

Fleur had brushed Dumbledore's betrayal, "I knew zat Dumblydoor was not to be trusted!" When Harry came to his relation to the Peverel family, Fleur jumped in surprise (really, she actually jumped out of her chair, landing on the floor). Bill helped her up. "D-Did you just say... Peverel?" Harry nodded, and Fleur broke into a big smile, "I knew zat zere was a reason I liked you, 'Arry! My muzzer's maiden name was Peverel." She ran around the desk and grabbed him in one of her bone-crushing hugs." We are related. My Granpapa has spent most of 'is life trying to track down ze family Grimoire, and eet 'as been in Eengland all along!"

"Can you let go of me Fleur?" came Harry's muffled voice, "I can't breathe!" She released him, "I am sorry, but what is a Grimoire?"

Fleur looked confused, "You are kidding, 'Arry? Aren't you?"

He shook his head, "Muggle-raised... remember?"

"Oh, I am sorry, I forgot. Well, a Grimiore ees a collection of magical zings zat a family or an individual 'as found useful over ze years. Zey could be spells that a family member 'as invented, or powerful curses, or rare potions, or directions on 'ow to craft magical artifacts." She blushed as she realized she was rambling, "Ze possibilities are endless, but almost always, a Grimiore ees spelled so zat only a family member may understand what is written in them, so ze true test to see eef we are related would be to see eef grandfazzer can read ze Grimiore."

"Well, we can talk about this later, but now, I was to talk about your new assignments." Harry said with a smile.

Bill stopped staring at the energetic Frenchwoman, and gave Harry a sad look. "But I thought we were fired?"

"Why do you think that?" This time it was Ragnok who spoke, thinking he knew what was coming.

"Well, Mr. Gringott... Grimpstock Gringott, that is... just fired us. I tried to help him up after he was... um... removed from his office and he told that we were fired. He proceeded to say that he wanted us off the premises by closing time and then stormed off, muttering something in gobbledygook."

The elderly goblin sighed, "I apologize for my brother's actions. He has always hated people seeing him when he is not in control of a situation. When he was little, he just threw a temper tantrum. Now, it seems that he just fires the first people he sees. Needless to say, you are not fired. He probably didn't even know who it was he fired. Anyways, although you may not be fired, you won't be working here anymore."

Harry caught Ragnok's almost nonexistent gesture for him to continue. "I am transferring you to a new site that requires a good deal of work, which corresponds directly in an increase of pay. All I will tell you now is that it is in England, so you will be close to your family, Bill, and you will be within owl distance to your family, Fleur. I will pay for your housing. You may either rent flats close to the dig site, or you may stay at my ancestral home and I will arrange transport to and from the work site. No Bill, you won't be intruding. I have more guest rooms that I know what to do with. Yes Fleur, I am sure there is a kitchen you can use to cook," During her stay at Hogwarts, Harry had found that the woman had spent most of her free time down in the kitchens, cooking with Dobby. It turned out that she liked to cook as much as Mrs. Weasley (although Fleur liked to cook dishes with a little more complexity than the Weasley Matriarch). "But don't come complaining to me if Lady Tor get huffy when you won't let her cook for you."

Fleur's slightly confused look made Harry chuckle lightly. She probably thought 'Lady Tor' was the house keeper. "You should know that I require complete secrecy about your lodgings, job, and anything you have heard today. I don't want anything getting back to Dumbledore before I plan. To ensure this, I am having another dragon's tooth made for Fleur. No Fleur, it doesn't have to be an earring. You can just wear it as a pendant. Bill, never take yours off, especially around Dumbledore. I don't know the extent of his powers, but in the past, it has felt as if he were plucking my answers to his questions straight out of my head. Now, do you have any questions?"

They just stared at him, mouths slightly open. It was Bill who shook himself from the stupor incited by Harry's generosity. He cut straight to the point. "When can we start?"

Harry smiled, glad for the curse-breaker's enthusiasm. "Well, if you want, we can start today. If you go back to your residences here in Cairo and pack an overnight bag, we can meet in the lobby to leave at," he looked at the clock on the wall, "let's say... six?" They both nodded. "Good. If you decide that you would rather stay by the site, you may have to spend the night while we look for flats for you to use. I can send some people to pack up your things here, and transfer it to wherever you decide, be it my home or a flat. Once we get to my home tonight, we can get you a quick tour, and then we can hash out things like the job details and the pay over dinner."

"I cannot speak for Beel, but I would be 'onered to stay at your 'ome. Thank you, 'Arry."

"I am sure it would be lovely. I'll accept your offer as well."

Harry smiled, letting his demeanor as the lordly Duke fall, turning back into his usual fourteen-year-old self, "Awesome, I will actually have someone close to my own age to talk to." He turned to Ragnok, "No offense, you have been great, but sometimes the stuff you talk about goes right over my head. Sirius may sometimes be my age mentally, but it's not the same."

Ragnok put on a scowl, but Harry could tell he was amused. "I'm not _that_ old!"

"Ragnok, my friend, you're older than Merlin himself, and I mean that literally," Harry said with a straight face. They stared at each other for a moment before both broke down laughing.

"Merlin's shorts! I don't know which I find more amazing: that Ragnok the Fearless is joking around with a fourteen-year-old wizard, or that Harry has the nerve to call Ragnok the Fearless old!" Bill said in wonder.

"I assure you, Mr. Weasley, my underpants have nothing to do with your amazement." Bill jumped as Myrrdin came floating through the door. "Harry, Vashra is anxious to meet you. Well, actually her cub is anxious to meet you and Vashra is getting impatient with him. She actually ordered me up here to find you and had to put a magical muzzle on him to stop his whining."

"Well, let's not keep Vashra waiting then!" 'I still have no clue who, or what, Vashra is.' Harry turned to Bill and Fleur, who had reverted to their now-familiar state of shock. "I will see you at six?" They nodded numbly, "Excellent! Let's go."

* * *

><p>Myrrdin, Ragnok, and Harry rejoined with Griphook and Sirius (Harry was glad he had missed that conversation since they had been discussing investments that the Black family had made over the years) and had made their way down to the entrance to the Cairo Vaults.<p>

The four (Myrrdin just floated along beside them) had piled into an enlarged mine cart. There was, however, one major difference between this cart ride and the one he usually took down to his Vault. Upon entering, Griphook tapped the side of the car twice instead of the customary once times. Instead of the wild ride that Harry equated to a muggle rollercoaster he had seen once on the telly, it was smooth and quiet. The track seemed to straighten out in front of them as they passed Vault after Vault instead of the twists and turns that he had so closely come to associate with Gringotts. As they passed over an immense pit that seemed to extent into eternity below them, Harry realized that they had been riding for some time. He expected that they must be nearing the end of the Cairo Vault system.

Once they neared the opposite edge of the chasm, Harry realized that they were not heading towards a tunnel carved into the opposite wall of the cavern, but rather were gently sloping down to the left. Harry saw that the track gradually steepened until it was almost vertical as it snaked its way down, counter-clockwise into the abyss below them.

Harry was about to comment on this when Ragnok said, "Please secure any loose articles of clothing, lest you never see them again." Before Harry could process this, they were hurtling downward, Griphook screaming like a little girl.

* * *

><p>Slowly, the track leveled out, the cart gradually decreasing in speed. When they reached the bottom, they had come to a complete stop. Harry hopped out of the cart, "Let's do that again!"<p>

Sirius was not a cavalier in his attitude. He just lunged over the side of the cart and emptied his stomach onto the ground.

Seeing this, Ragnok sighed. He marched over to the heaving wizard and flicked him on the temple. Sirius lost the need to hurl and the color returned to his face.

"Thanks, I needed that."

"It was nothing... but you may want to check your pants."

Sirius patted himself down, much to the amusement of those present before letting out a sigh of relief and exclaimed jokingly, "Phew, nope, I'm good!"

While laughing at his godfather's antics, Harry felt a tug in his magic. In the inky blackness that permeated the rest of the cavern he felt two beings silently making their way towards them. To Harry, both felt like an odd mixture of opposites: life and death, growth and decay, joy and fear, love and hate.

Harry reacted instinctively, letting his will shape his magic, his magic shape his actions. He had heard rumors about the things that allegedly guarded Gringott's vaults and did not want to be caught unawares. Instantly, his wand was in his hand, as if it had materialized there. He whipped around brandishing his wand, _willing_ the chamber to become light enough to be able to identify his target so he could defend his friends.

There was a bright flash of light.

Harry immediately recognized his targets, although he did not take the time to actually process what he was seeing. A spell jumped to his mind. While he had no idea as to why he should use this spell (especially since he had only learned of it yesterday and had never actually cast it), he knew his magic knew what it was doing, even if he didn't.

"_Levicorpus!_" Harry shouted the word, throwing the immense weight of his power behind the spell.

The two figures, one the size of a house and pitch black, the other the size of a large car and white as snow, flew into the air, suspended by their rear left paws.

'Paws?' Harry took a moment to process the information his senses were screaming at his brain.

He, a fourteen-year-old, had just incapacitated, not one, but two nundu, one of the most feared magical beings on the face of the earth, the creature that, reportedly, had never been subdued by less than one hundred wizards, working as a unit.

_/You were right Myrrdin, he is strong./_ the voice was a purr in the back of his mind, calm yet powerful. /_You could barely subdue me all those years ago when we met in Petra, and yet, this youngling can stop both my cub and I with one spell. You are correct, he is worthy. I will ask him... that is, if he could let us down./_

Harry looked over to Myrrdin, his eyes asking the ancient specter what to do next.

"Well, I thought my life was in danger. It didn't occur to me to us a _prank_ jinx. Harry, let Vashra and her cub down. They mean us no harm. She was just trying to give us a little scare. Sometimes she can be as much of a prankster as Sirius here." All four turned to the Marauder. To their surprise, Sirius was standing stock still, a wide-eyed expression on his face.

"I-Is that what I think it is?" he asked, pointing at the suspended nundu.

"Yes, those are nundu."  
>"And did Harry just…"<p>

"Yes, your fourteen year old nephew just incapacitated one of the most feared creatures on the planet."

"And are they really…"

"Yes, they are intelligent,"

There was a slight pause while Sirius seated himself on a nearby rock. Sighing, he put his head in his hands, "I really need a drink!"

The silence was broken by Vashra, who cleared her throat, resulting in a sound similar to a cat coughing up a fur ball. /_Can we please be let down? I am starting to get a headache./_

"_Oh, sorry,_" Harry replied in High Draconix, gently lowering them to the ground.

Vashra stood and appraised Harry with a calculating stare. Her cub had hidden himself behind his mother's front leg, viewing the scene by peeking his head out around Vashra's paw, /_Well, doesn't this make things interesting! You are a speaker too. It will definitely make things easier. Now, down to business./_ She sat down, the ground shaking slightly as she settled into a comfortable position. /_As you may know -or not, Myr is not the most open person about his past- I was his familiar./_ Harry glanced at the ghost, eyes wide, only to see Myrrdin roll his eyes.

He turned his attention back to Vashra, /_After he died, he released me from our bond. While we still remained friends, I went back to my pack. It was fine for a while but it changed once I had my cub here. As you can see, he is an albino./_ Harry glanced down at the cub, who met his gaze, shrugged his shoulders, tilted his head towards his mother, and rolled his eyes. He was every inch the exasperated teenage son (Harry did not actually know how old the cub was, but, by his mannerisms, it seemed like they were probably the same age).

_/We were shunned from the pack because he was different and we eventually ran into Myrrdin, who was making one of his yearly visits. He offered us a place here: to guard some Vaults that no one would be stupid enough to rob in exchange for food, shelter and safety. After twelve years holed up here, _('Yep,' Harry thought, 'we probably are around the same age.') _I decided it was time that my cub saw some of the outside world. So, I contacted Myrrdin to see if there was anyone he trusted that would make my cub their familiar so that he could experience life outside these walls. I couldn't trust my little cub to anyone, now could I?/_ She stooped down and licked her cub affectionately, practically knocking him over in the process. The cub's eyes were practically screaming at Harry, "Get me out of here now! I'll do anything!"

Vashra glared back at Harry, who gulped, /_Now! When you bond with my son, I will only warn you once, if you hurt him, or let him get hurt, no one will be able to find a piece of you big enough to bury. Do I make myself clear?/_ Harry nodded. /_Now, all that is left is the bonding. Harry, all that you have to do is prick your finger on one of my cub's teeth and his magic will do the rest. Go on, now. Bond. I'm waiting._" Harry was too scared of Vashra to protest that she hadn't even asked him if he wanted a familiar (although this wasn't too much of a problem because he had actually wanted a bonded familiar for about a year now, but that wasn't the point). He hadn't even spoken to the cub. But none of this mattered. He just wanted to live to see his next birthday.

So, Harry found himself striding over to the cub, who was still hiding behind one of Vashra's paws. The cub opened his mouth and Harry promptly pricked his finger on one of the razor sharp canines and waited for the magic to take effect.

Harry felt a burning warmth trickle down from the cut on his finger, running down his arm and flooding the rest of his body. He felt dizzy for a moment then it passed. He was about to ask his ancestor if that was it when it felt like he was hit over the head with club. Everything dissolved into darkness.

* * *

><p>Harry woke up back in his bed in Tor Emrys. Looking around, he spotted the Vashra's cub ('I really need to learn his name.'), still asleep, snoring softly next to the four poster. He barely fit into the space between his bed and the door to the bathroom. Harry had a feeling that Lady Tor may have enlarged the room so he could fit.<p>

He spied Myrrdin floating in front of a book which lay open on the table. Every so often the ghost would mutter 'next' and the page would turn.

"Urgh," Harry propped himself up on his elbows, "So, how long have I been out?" His ancestor, engrossed in his book, didn't seem to notice him. "Myr? Myr!" Nothing. Harry threw a pillow at him, "Hey! Old guy!"

While the fluffy projectile passed right through him, it did get Myrrdin's attention. "Oh! Harry, you're up. I was just reading up on any information that could help Mr. Weasley and Mrs. Delacour with their assignment," he said, gesturing to the book.

"How long have I been out?"

"Oh, only two hours. Mr. Weasley and Ms. Delacour arrived about half an hour ago. Ragnok is currently giving them a tour."

"Ragnok? Lord, will they even be done by supper?"

The ghost chuckled, "It's just a brief tour: the main library, the potions labs, the gardens... things like that."

"What about 'Snowball' here," Harry gestured at the sleeping nundu, "when do you think that he will wake up?"

"If he is anything like his mother, I don't think he will appreciate the endearment. I once tried to call Vashra 'Blackie'," the ghost said, rubbing his backside, "and I have the scars to prove it."

"Well I can't keep calling him 'cub' like his mother for the rest of his life, now can I? What is Snowball's name anyway?"

/_I don't have one._/ Both Emrys jumped. They hadn't noticed that the nundu was awake. The feline yawned, his gaping mouth filled with razor sharp teeth. The cat rested his head on the bed next to Harry.

"What do you mean 'you don't have one'?" Without thinking, Harry reached out and started to scratch a spot behind the nundu's lage ear, which, in turn, caused the cat to fill the room with his deep purring.

/_Names are human things. Nundu identify each other by their scent and aura._/

'Well, I could always call you 'my little cub' like your mother, or there's always 'Snowball'," Harry said, chuckling and pinching the young nundu's cheek.

The cat's previous purr turned into a low, unamused growl. /_Do that again and you'll lose a hand._/ Harry removed the offending appendage. /_While having a name is an honor, I would prefer not to be called 'Snowball'. How can your enemies tremble in fear before you if your viscous familiar is called something like 'Snowball'?_/

"How about 'Alban'?" Myrrdin tried.

"Too close to 'Albus'," the ghost gave Harry a questioning look. "Dumbledore," Harry explained.

/_How 'bout something that describes my personality? I _am_ great and terrifying, it should give you plenty of options,_/ the cub said smugly.

There was a pause. The cub yawned again and Harry resumed scratching behind the cub's ear. Suddenly, Harry's face lit up, "I've got it! How about 'Astran'?"

Myrrdin gave a bark of a laugh, "Well, if he is half as demanding as his mother, it would definitely be appropriate."

/_I am almost scared to ask, but... what does it mean?_/ the nundu's voice was apprehensive.

"It means 'King' in Incan..." Harry replied.

/_I'm sensing a 'but' here..._/

"...but," the ghost supplied, trying to hide his smile, "it also means 'pain-in-the-arse' in Olmec."

The nundu was silent for a moment, thinking the name over, /_I like it. 'Astran'..._/ He tried the name out, /_I shall be Astran._/

"Good!" the ghost stood and looked at the clock, "Now, we have dinner in an hour in your personal dining room. I will leave you to get ready... Oh, and Harry? Give the 'Royal Pain' a bath. Over a decade stuck in a cave doesn't leave you smelling your freshest." Seeing the look of horror on Astran's features, the ghost left, laughing his incorporial arse off.

Astran looked at Harry out of the corner of his eye, /_You are _not_ licking me clean!_/

Harry laughed, "I'm a wizard. There are other ways to get cleaned." He waved his hand at the cat and thought '_Scrougify_!'

A surprised roar was heard throughout Tor Emrys as the cleaning spell took off a few layers of the cat's skin along with the dirt. There was a reason wizards and witches took showers.

* * *

><p>Harry entered the dining room alone. Astran wanted the chance to scare the guests half to death and the son-of-a-Marauder part of him let the cat have his way.<p>

Apart from Astran, he was the last to arrive. Fleur was talking animatedly in French to Sirius (whom, Harry was surprised to learn, understood the language) while Bill, excitement glimmering in his eyes, was trying to pry any details about his new assignment out of Griphook, who was remaining tight lipped. Myr and Ragnok were conversing in gobbledegook, trying to decide if they should give the two curse-breakers access to a translation of Galois's personal Grimoire if they should come across unfamiliar wards and curses.

Myr looked up, hearing Harry enter the room. "Ah, Harry, m'boy, you're here. Let's eat, I'm starving." the ghost said ecclesiastically, rubbing his hands together.

Harry rolled his eyes. "Myr, you're a ghost. You don't even have a stomach, how can you be hungry?"

"No, I don't, but Mr. Weasley's stomach has been growling for the past five minutes," at this Bill blushed, "so I decided to take the initiative and say what he was thinking."

Harry chuckled, "Well, knowing Ron and the twins, it's hard to keep a Weasley away from food. Lady Tor, would you do the honors?"

"Of course, dearie." Bill and Fleur jumped at the incorporeal voice, while an assortment of dishes appeared in front of them.

Bill looked eager to tuck in until he spotted a large silver platter stacked high with uncooked steaks. "Um, Harry?" Bill's voice drew Harry's attention away from the Bouillabaisse he was ladling into his bowl, "Who is that for?" he asked, pointing at the stack of meat.

"I guess that is for Astran." Harry said shrugging.

"Who is Astran?" Bill thought he had missed something. It was a common occurrence when food was involved.

"He's my new familiar."

"A new familiar? Ok Harry, cough up the details. What is he? Where is he? When can we meet him?"

Harry chuckled, "Slow down, Bill! One question at a time. One: I'll give you three guesses; two: right behind you; and three: right now."

It took Bill a moment to process what Harry had said, but when he did, he turned around... only to be brought face to face with a large, grinning ('Who knew cats could grin?' Harry thought) feline face.

"Ahhh!" Bill yelped, jumping up from his chair. He tripped on the hem of his robe and fell face first into the lap of the person sitting next to him... which just happened to be Fleur.

"Beel, I know we are friends, but I do not zink zat we are zat friendly yet." She had not been surprised at the appearance of the nundu. The veela in her had sensed the approach of the magical creature. Upon analyzing his aura, she had felt his intentions (to scare, not to harm) and a portion of Harry's magic. At the time, this had puzzled the part-veela, but as soon as Harry had said 'familiar', everything clicked into place.

Everyone in the room (except Bill) was laughing. Astran padded around the table to where his platter was placed and snapped up a steak. He seated himself, purring lightly, pleased with himself for scaring the red-headed wizard.

By now, Bill had returned to his seat and regained his composure. "Harry, where the hell did you get a bloody nundu? I mean, I expected something magical, but... a nundu? ...bloody hell!"

Both Astran and Harry grinned, "The 'bloody nundu's' name is Astran and he can understand you."

Bill paled dramatically, which drew an amused chuckle from the room.

"Nundu aside, I believe we have business to attend to." Ragnok said, his gaze flitting between Bill and Fleur.

At this, both straightened, looks of excitement coming into their eyes.

* * *

><p>The dinner had gone well. The two curse-breakers' eyes went wide when they had discovered what they were going to be attempting to break into a vault that had been warded by both Galois Kin-Slayer and Morgan le Fey. When Harry questioned Myrrdin as to how le Fey had come into the possession of the Vaults, the ghost was tight lipped, saying that it was another story for another day.<p>

Both Fleur had reaffirmed that they would be honored to stay (although Bill had said that he was nervous living in a place in which the furnishings of a single room were probably worth more than the entire Burrow).

Bill had looked like he was about to have a heart attack when the two were told that their salaries would easily be doubled (due to the high risk and secrecy). Like a true Weasley, he tried to refuse the raise, but relented when Fleur slapped the back of his head and told him not to be dense.

They had quickly agreed to the gag order. They were not to say anything about their assignment nor their living quarters, other than they were both in the British Isles (they couldn't say England because Avalon was technically its own country). To Harry's surprise, Myrrdin told them that they could tell people that their employer was 'the Duke of Tintagel' after August first. Why August first? Harry didn't know and when he asked, all the ghost said was, "You'll see," and smiled mischievously.

When dessert (which was a decadent Tira Misu) was finished, everyone was full and ready for bed. Ragnok and Griphook took their leave and Harry asked Lady Tor to take them to their respective rooms.

Before Lady Tor could act, Harry heard Bill mutter to Fleur. "Yet?" he asked, referring to when he had landed in her lap, "You don't think we were that friendly, _yet_?"

Harry caught Fleur's blush of embarrassment before they were whisked away to their rooms.

"Ahh," Lady Tor said softly, "Young love."

Harry smiled, heading to his bed, "Goodnight Lady Tor, goodnight Astran."

He got changed into his pajamas, smiling when he thought of tomorrow's Inheritance Ritual. 'I think I'm starting to like my new life,' Harry thought before lying down and falling asleep.

* * *

><p><strong>Soooooo, how was it. I won't know if you tell me. You know what to do.<strong>


End file.
